M^s  GLADSTONE 


Mrs.  Gladstone 


By  Her  Daughter 

Mary  Drew 


Illustrated 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 
1920 


Copyright,  1920,  by 
Mary  Drew 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIPORNTA 

SANTA    RAP.RARA 


To 

The  Dear  and  Honoured  Memory 

of 

MY    MOTHER    AND    FATHER 

and  to 

MY    BROTHERS    AND    SISTERS 

In  Love  and  Gratitude 


Prevent  us,  0  Lord,  in  all  our  doings,  with  Thy  most 
gracious  favour;  that  in  all  our  works  begun,  cojitinued, 
and  ended  in  Thee,  we  may  glorify  Thy  holy  Name; 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

THE  American  reading  public  is  by  this 
time  fairly  familiar  with  the  career  and 
personality  of  Mr.  Gladstone.  The  rec- 
ord of  his  long  service  to  his  country  has  been 
admirably  presented  in  the  great  biography  of 
Morley  and  is,  of  course,  made  clear  in  all  the 
histories  that  have  to  do  with  England  in  the  nine- 
teenth century. 

The  personality  of  Mrs.  Gladstone  is,  however, 
unfamiliar  to  American  readers,  even  to  those  who 
have  interested  themselves  in  the  history  of  Eng- 
lish political  life  and  society  during  the  last  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Up  to  this  time,  no 
biography  of  Mrs.  Gladstone  has  been  brought 
into  print  on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  it  is 
only  those  who  have  been  in  touch  with  the  Glad- 
stone home  circle  who  know  how  large  a  factor 
Mrs.  Gladstone  was  in  the  life  of  the  great  states- 
man, how  important  in  many  directions  was  her 
influence  and  service  and  how  distinctive  and  in- 
teresting was  her  own  personality.  She  came 
through  both  parents  from  great  families,  families 
which  had,  through  a  long  series  of  generations, 


vi  putili$l)ec0'  Jl3ote 

given  to  England  statesmen  and  other  leaders  of 
thought,  men  and  women  who  had  influenced  pub- 
lic opinion.  She  was  by  temperament,  intellect, 
and  training  admirably  fitted  to  be  the  wife  of  a 
leader  in  the  community.  With  Gladstone's  pur- 
poses and  ideals  she  was  thoroughly  sympathetic, 
and  we  have  testimony  in  his  own  words  as  to  the 
value  of  her  loyal  co-operation  in  his  work. 

The  record  that  is  here  presented  comes  from 
the  pen  of  a  loving  daughter  who  had  intimate 
personal  knowledge  of  the  life  and  the  home  cir- 
cle, and  who  has  secured  from  old-time  friends 
of  the  family  information  on  matters  that  were 
not  within  her  own  direct  experience. 

The  picture  given  of  Mrs.  Gladstone,  a  typical 
English  woman  of  the  highest  class,  a  loving  wife 
and  mother,  and  a  loyal  co-worker,  is  most  at- 
tractive. 

The  life  is  one  that  is  deserving  of  commemora- 
tion, and  the  record  of  it  should  prove  of  interest 
to  thousands  of  American  readers  who  are  able  to 
understand  the  value  of  the  service  rendered  to 
England  and  to  the  world  by  the  great  Liberal 
leader. 

G.  H.  P. 

New  York,  January  i6,  1920. 


INTRODUCTION 

A  FEW  years  ago,  I  prepared  for  private  cir- 
culation a  sketch  of  my  Mother,  and  by  the 
^  wish  of  my  brothers  and  sisters  this  was 
brought  into  print  in  191 6  in  the  Cornhill  Maga- 
zine. The  publication  raised  a  deep  and  unusual 
interest  in  my  Mother's  life  and  personality  and 
those  who  had  the  best  right  to  ask  expressed  the 
desire  for  a  fuller  consideration  of  her  career,  for 
more  light  on  the  picture.  The  paper  nevertheless 
remains  a  sketch;  it  has  been  my  feeling  that  in 
some  cases  an  outline  that  leaves  much  to  the  imagi- 
nation may  really  give  a  fuller  revelation  than  that 
secured  from  a  finished  picture. 

The  narrative  presents  a  selection,  made  almost 
at  random,  from  scenes  and  incidents  from  the  ex- 
periences and  happenings  of  my  Mother's  long 
life,  of  which  her  daughter  had  personal  know- 
ledge. It  can  hardly  be  called  a  monograph,  be- 
cause it  is  in  order  to  recall  the  atmosphere  and 
the  surroundings  in  which  my  Mother  lived  and 
had  her  being,  and  for  this  reason  I  have  found  it 
necessary  to  touch  upon  lives  other  than  her  own. 
It   cannot   be   necessary   to    apologise    for   the 

vii 


viii  Knttoduction 

abiding  sense  of  my  Father's  presence,  a  presence 
that  seemed  to  have  permeated  my  Mother's  being. 
It  will  be  recognised  that,  if  these  glimpses  into 
her  life  and  surroundings  were  to  give  a  truthful 
portrait,  it  was  necessary  to  make  study  of  my 
Father's  personality  as  well  as  of  hers,  for  in 
thought  they  were  sympathetic  and  in  act  they 
were  inseparable. 

The  marriage  of  one  sister  in  1873,  and  the 
Cambridge  career,  lasting  from  1878  to  1896,  of 
the  other,  left  for  me  the  privilege  of  being  the 
chief  companion  of  the  parents.  The  other  sisters 
were  naturally  much  at  home,  but  the  home 
daughter  had  exceptional  opportunities  for  inter- 
course, and  both  before  and  after  her  own  mar- 
riage, practically,  therefore,  from  her  birth  to 
their  death,  she  had  the  privilege  of  living  in  close 
association  with  her  parents. 

I  must  express  to  Mr.  A.  T.  Bassett  my  thankful 
appreciation  for  his  kind  aid  in  arranging  the 
papers,  and  to  Lord  Morley  I  owe  an  unpayable 
debit  of  gratitude  for  the  inspiration  of  his  great 
biography. 

M.  D. 

September,  1919. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.  Childhood  and  Youth 

II.  Girlhood  and  Marriage  . 

III.  Diaries  in  Early  Married  Life 

IV.  Letters  from  Her    . 
V.  Letters  to  Her  . 

VI.  Characteristics . 

VIL  Good  Works     . 

VIII.  Reminiscences  . 


IX.     "Via  Crucis — Via  Lucis 
Genealogical  Table  . 
Index 


?5 


PAGE 
I 

40 
76 

251 
278 

285 
287 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


Mrs.  Gladstone  .... 
Venetia  Stanley  (Lady  Digby)  . 
Catherine,     Mary,     Stephen,     and 

Glynne  at  Audley  End  . 
Catherine  and  Mary  Glynne 

Audley  End 

Sir  Stephen  Glynne      .... 

Hawarden  Castle  ..... 

Fasque  ....... 

Mrs.  Gladstone  and  her  Sister,  Lady  Lyttel 

ton,  on  the  Lawn  of  Hawarden 
Hagley  Hall . 
Catherine  Gladstone 
Mary,  Lady  Lyttelton  . 
Mrs.  Gladstone  in  1863  . 
Mrs.  Gladstone  and  Herbert 
Lady  Braybrooke  and  Lady  Fortescue 
The  Rt.  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone    . 


Frontispiece 

4 
Henry 


8 
10 

14 
16 

26 

34 

42 
68 

86 

90 

96 

104 

128 

148 


]illu$tration0 

PAGE 

A  Family  Group  at  Hawarden    ,         ,        .188 

Billingbear 204 

Mrs.  Gladstone  at  Hawarden      .        .         .  238 
Mrs.    Gladstone   at   Dollis    Hill,   with   her 

Granddaughter,  Dorothy  Drew     .         .  258 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  at  Cannes      .         .  276 

Hawarden  Castle  by  Night  ....  284 


MRS.  GLADSTONE 


MRS.  GLADSTONE 

CHAPTER  I 

CHILDHOOD  AND  YOUTH 

WHO  is  that  lady  and  what  is  she  doing?" 
The  lady  in  question  was  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone; she  was  carrying  babies  rolled 
up  in  blankets  from  the  London  Hospital,  at  the 
time  of  the  virulent  outbreak  of  cholera  in  1866. 
Catherine  Glynne  was  born  at  Hawarden  Cas- 
tle on  January  6,  1812.  Both  her  parents  were 
descended  from  Crusaders.  Her  father,  Sir 
Stephen  Glynne,  representative  of  the  Percy 
Barony,  was  twenty-fourth  in  descent  from  Wil- 
liam de  Percy,  a  Norman  chieftain,  who  came 
over  to  England  in  1066  with  William  the  Con- 
queror. He  accompanied  Duke  Robert  to  the  Holy 
Land  in  the  First  Crusade,  and  died  near  Jeru- 
salem in  1096. 

Her  mother,  Mary  Neville,  daughter  of  Lord 
Braybrooke  and  Catherine  Grenville,  was  eight- 
eenth in  descent  from  Richard  de  Grenville,  and 


2  Qir0,  0laO0tone 

Lady  Isabelle,  daughter  of  Lord  Buckingham. 
Richard  de  Grenville,  a  Crusader,  died  in  the 
Holy  Land  in  1 147.  Mary  Neville  was  related  to 
five  Prime  Ministers — the  two  Grenvilles  (one  of 
whom  was  her  grandfather)  Lord  Chatham,  Mr. 
Pitt,  and  Mr.  Gladstone,  her  son-in-law. 

Mr.  Gladstone  compiled  for  the  use  of  his  chil- 
dren the  list  of  the  statesmen  related  to  their  grand- 
mother, Lady  Glynne. 

Right  Hon.   George  Grenville Grandfather 

Sir  William  Wyndham Great-Grandf ather 

Lord  Chatham Great-Uncle 

Mr,  Pitt First  Cousin 

Lord   Grenville Great-Uncle 

Lord  Buckingham Great-Uncle 

Proud  she  might  have  been  of  the  great  historic 
names  among  her  ancestors.  Mr.  Gladstone,  if 
the  idea  had  appealed  to  her,  would  have  liked 
the  Percy  title  to  be  re-created  on  her  behalf,  she 
being  one  of  the  representatives  of  the  Percy 
Barony.  But  she  never  would  have  borne  to  take 
a  name  different  from  that  of  her  husband. 
Through  Agnes  de  Percy  and  Jocelyn  de  Lou- 
vaine,  she  was  directly  descended  from  Charle- 
magne. Both  her  parents  were  on  the  Plantag- 
enet  Roll.  To  select  a  few  of  the  most  famous 
names  in  the  history  of  England — Egbert,  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror,  Harry  Hotspur,  and  Edward 


C!)iIDf)ooD  anD  gout!)  3 

I,  were  among  her  ancestors.  Sir  Richard  Gren- 
ville  of  glorious  memory,  the  hero  of  Tennyson's 
"Revenge,"  was  a  member  of  her  family.* 

Sir  John  Glyn,  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England, 
second  son  of  Sir  William  Glyn  of  Glynlifon, 
Carnarvonshire,  was  the  founder  of  the  Hawar- 
den  branch  of  the  family.  Being  a  younger  son 
he  could  not  inherit  the  beautiful  home  of  his 
Glyn  ancestors.  He  went  out  into  the  world  to 
seek  his  fortunes.  He  was  twenty-first  in  descent 
from  Cil  Maen  Troed  Dhu,  one  of  the  seven  Kings 
or  Chieftains  of  Wales  who  flourished  in  843. 

This  brilliant  young  barrister  won  his  spurs  dur- 
ing the  indictment  of  Lord  Straf^ford.  His  speech 
on  that  occasion  changed  the  fortunes  of  the  day 
and  resulted  in  the  condemnation  and  death  of 
Strafford.  Sir  John  was  buried  beneath  the  Altar 
in  St.  Margaret's  Church,  Westminster.  There 
was  a  decided  fitness  in  the  Glynnes  following  the 
Stanleys  as  owners  of  Hawarden,^  Sir  Stephen 
Glynne,  father  of  Mrs.  Gladstone,  being  fourth  in 
descent  from  Venetia  Stanley,^  "the  renowned 
beauty,"    granddaughter    of    Lord    Derby;    and 

^  Many  families,  of  course,  could  claim  the  same  historic  descent 
or  others  as  notable.  But  there  is  a  limit  to  those  who  without  per- 
sonal research  can  find  it  notified  in  standard  works  of  Genealogy. 

^  Glynlifon  was  acquired  by  the  Wynns  through  marriage  with  the 
Glyn  heiress. 

^  Venetia  married  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  whose  fine  portrait  by  Vandyck 
hangs  over  the  chimney-piece  in  the  Library  at  Hawarden  Castle. 


4  ^t0»  aiaD0tone 

the  Stanleys  having  intermarried  with  Catherine 
Glynne's  ancestors. 

Her  father  and  mother  were  distinguished  by 
remarkable  beauty  of  face  and  form — beauty  in- 
herited by  both  their  daughters.  Their  marriage 
was  tragically  cut  short  after  a  few  happy  years, 
by  Sir  Stephen's  death  at  the  early  age  of  thirty. 
They  had  posted  to  the  Riviera  as  a  last  hope  of 
benefiting  his  lungs.  It  is  curious  to  read  in  Lady 
Glynne's  journal  that,  there  being  then  no  profes- 
sional nurses,  any  stray  friends  of  hers  staying  at 
Nice — Lady  Bradford  and  others — took  it  in  turns 
to  look  after  the  patient.  They  had  taken  with 
them  their  carriages  and  riding  horses,  a  whole 
retinue  of  servants,  and  the  little  eldest  boy  aged 
six. 

Napoleon  was  then  safe  in  captivity  at  Elba. 
They  bought  for  the  use  of  the  invalid  one  of  his 
famous  white  chargers^,  the  same  horse  which  had 
carried  him  at  the  terrible  battle  of  Borodino,  and 
in  the  succeeding  stages  of  his  retreat  from  Russia. 

It  was  in  the  year  of  Waterloo  that  Sir  Stephen's 
death  took  place.  Lady  Glynne  was  caught  in  the 
great  Hundred  Days.  Napoleon  had  made  his 
escape  from  Elba  and  was  at  large.     Lord  Bray- 

*  This  horse   went  with   them   to   England,    after   the   death   of   Sir 
Stephen,  and  eventually  died  and  was  buried  at  Hawarden. 


Venetia  Stanley  (Lady  Digby) 
great-great-great-grandmother  of  mrs.  gladstone 

From  Vandyck's  portrait  at  Windsor 


brooke  set  off  from  England  to  escort  his  daughter 

home,  but  his  coach  was  stopped  and  his  horses 
commandeered. 

Meanwhile  Lady  Glynne  was  advised  not  to 
travel  by  sea  for  fear  of  the  ship  being  seized  and 
interned.  They  contrived  to  reach  Genoa  safely, 
and  thence  with  many  complications  they  posted 
across  Lombardy,  Switzerland  and  Flanders,  on 
their  way  to  England. 

With  her  four  children,  all  under  six,  this  beau- 
tiful young  widow  returned  to  the  home  of  her 
girlhood,  and  lived  with  her  father  in  London,  at 
Audley  End  and  at  Billingbear.  For  three  months 
of  each  year  she  resided  at  Hawarden.  There  is 
a  diary  in  existence  containing  notes  on  her  chil- 
dren, between  1815  and  1822.  Catherine,  at  the 
age  of  three,  is  mentioned  as  a  magnificent  speci- 
men with  curly  golden  hair,  abounding  in  animal 
spirits,  a  coaxing,  passionate  little  Pussy.  She 
sometimes  "pretends  to  be  feminine — 'Pussy  so 
fightened,'  she  says,  when  having  no  notion  of 
fear."  At  four  she  says,  ''Nothin's  too  dood  for 
Mammy."  She  had  a  passion  for  her  Aunt,  Lady 
Chatham — laid  hold  of  her  and  held  her  tight  on 
her  departure  from  Audley  End — "Don't  go,  dear 
Chat" — and  was  unwilling  to  let  her  get  into  the 


0  Q^r0»  (^laD0tone 

carriage.  At  five  she  reads  nicely  and  begins  to 
write,  knows  a  little  French  and  geography, 
showed  great  pluck  over  the  extraction  of  a  double 
tooth,  minding  far  more  when  her  brother  Henry's 
was  drawn;  at  six  speaks  and  reads  French. 
"Blooming  and  healthy  as  it  is  possible  for  a  child 
to  be,  devoted  to  her  sister  and  brothers,  much  at- 
tracted by  dress  and  finery,  a  beautiful  child,  but 
Mary  may  still  grow  up  to  be  the  prettiest." 

'January,  1818.  Catherine,  just  six,  reads  and 
writes  nicely.  Learns  a  page  of  Bible  History  by 
heart.  "She  has  been  in  several  passions  lately. 
The  great  punishment — dining  by  herself  on 
Christmas  Day,  when  I  dined  with  the  other  chil- 
dren and  George^  and  Charlotte — will  I  trust  pre- 
vent their  so  frequent  recurrence — for  she  is  really 
good  and  docile  in  general,  picks  up  quickly." 

The  accounts  of  her  elder  brother  Stephen  are 
more  detailed,  so  interesting  and  unique  was  his 
character.  The  French  governess  who  arrived  in 
April,  18 1 8,  brings  improvement  to  Catherine's 
manners.  She  has  music  lessons  at  six  and  a  half, 
and  would  sit  for  hours  listening  to  music — "fewer 
passions  and  in  general  good  and  affectionate.  A 
nice  little  voice  and  a  true  ear.    She  is  a  very  good 

'The  Rev.  &  Hon.  George  Neville  Grenville,  Rector  of  Hawarden; 
his  wife  was  Lady  Charlotte  Legge. 


Cf)ilDf)ooti  and  ^outf)  7 

horse-woman."  There  are  many  health  details 
and  much  about  physic,  emetics  being  the  order  of 
the  day.  Mary  at  seven  is  described  as  very  witty 
and  extremely  entertaining,  rattles  away  in 
French.  Catherine  loves  reading,  and  the  list  of 
histories  they  read  in  French  would  frighten  par- 
ents of  the  present  day.  The  diary  ends  abruptly, 
September,  1822. 

Their  education  was  probably  rather  unusual, 
but  must  have  been  wisely  conducted.  A  series 
of  long-suffering  governesses  were  possibly  not  of 
much  good,  but  Lady  Glynne  was  a  remarkably 
clever  and  cultivated  woman,  as  is  shown  by  her 
letters.  Catherine  spoke  Italian  and  French  with 
ease  and  fluency,  and  the  former  with  a  beautiful 
accent.  She  had  an  extraordinary  memory  for 
poetry  and  could  easily,  even  in  much  later  years, 
beat  any  of  us  in  the  game  of  "capping  verses" — 
chiefly  from  the  classics.  Pope  and  Milton  and 
Shakespeare.  She  surprised  us  all  one  evening 
late  in  life  by  repeating  by  heart  Mazzini's  great 
Ode  to  Napoleon,  the  "Cinque  Maggio."  She  had 
learnt  Latin  and  could  always  construe  any  stray 
passages  for  us.  Certainly  she  read  little  in  later 
life — one  was  not  accustomed  to  seeing  a  book  or 
even  a  newspaper  in  her  hand — but  her  books  of 
extracts   testify   to   very   serious    reading   in   her 


8  ^r0»  aiaD0tone 

youth;  the  mere  fact  of  her  reading  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's first  book,  "The  Church  in  its  Relations 
with  the  State,"  before  he  became  her  devoted 
lover,  testifies  to  her  resolution.  There  are  long 
extracts  from  Newman's  Sermons,  and  later  on 
we  read  a  passage  from  St.  Augustine  in  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's handwriting.  She  was  in  the  habit  of  read- 
ing aloud  to  her  children  in  later  years;  Scott's 
novels  were  read  in  that  way. 

The  following  little  note  written  by  Catherine 
is  interesting  for  its  words  on  Bishop  Heber,  a 
great  friend  of  Lady  Glynne's: 

"I  could  not  have  been  more  than  eight  when 
Bishop  Heber  first  visited  Hawarden  Castle,  1820 
I  believe,  but  words  spoken  of  him  by  my  Mother 
have  not  faded.  In  1815  she  had  become  a  widow. 
It  was  natural  at  such  a  time  of  trial  that  inter- 
course such  as  was  now  offered  should  be  of  spe- 
cial value.  For  I  recall  the  Bishop's  singular 
gifts,  his  greatness,  his  charm,  his  persuasiveness. 
So  it  was  through  her  conversation  afterwards  that 
I  can  recall  how  comforting  and  precious  it  was 
to  her.  Then  I  remember  the  deep  interest  on 
hearing  that  he  was  to  be  Bishop  of  Calcutta,  and 
the  awe  and  sadness  with  which  we  received  the 
tidings  of  his  death." 

Long    afterwards    Mrs.    Gladstone    told    her 


Catherine,  Mary,  Stephen,  and  Henry  Glynne 
AT  AuDLEY  End 

from  a   coloured,  drawing  by  Eden   U.  Eddis 


Ct)ilDl)ooD  anD  i^outl)  9 

daughter  she  remembered  how  much  startled  and 
grieved  her  Mother  (Lady  Glynne)  had  been 
when  she  received  an  offer  of  marriage  from  one 
of  her  friends  after  she  became  a  widow.  In  all 
her  youth  and  beauty  she  had  a  sense  of  consecra- 
tion after  the  death  of  her  husband.  With  so 
strong  a  feeling  on  her  own  part,  she  fully  expect- 
ed others  to  realise  the  same. 

Catherine's  Aunt,  Lady  Wenlock,  left  it  on  rec- 
ord— "that  as  a  child  it  was  difficult  to  teach  her, 
and  that  she  was  recalcitrant  in  learning  any  kind 
of  Wessons'  [just  what  one  would  have  guessed  in 
after  life  from  her  impatience  of  routine].  But 
nobody  ever  thought  this  implied  any  lack  of  in- 
telligence. The  fact  was,  she  was  immensely  in- 
terested in  life  at  first  hand,  and  she  refused  to 
take  her  knowledge  from  other  people's  brains  or 
books." 

When  her  daughters  had  reached  the  ages  of 
fifteen  and  sixteen.  Lady  Glynne  took  them  with 
their  governess  to  Paris.  This  was  with  the  object 
of  education,  and  among  their  masters  was  the 
great  Abbe  Liszt,  who  taught  them  the  pianoforte. 
Though  still  in  the  schoolroom.  Lady  Glynne  was 
persuaded  to  take  them  to  two  or  three  special 
festivities.  No  sooner  had  they  set  foot  in  Paris 
than  Lord  Douglas  (their  brother  Henry's  great- 


10  ^t$.  (^IaD0tone 

est  friend)  arrived  at  their  Hotel  to  plead  with 
Lady  Glynne  to  bring  them  to  his  mother's^  dance. 
On  hearing  that  the  entertainment  was  partly  for 
children,  Lady  Glynne,  to  the  intense  delight  of 
the  Pussies,  consented  to  bring  them.  The  hair- 
dresser was  sent  for — "Just  as  mine  was  begun," 
wrote  the  elder  Puss,  "Stephen  presented  me  with 
a  bouquet  in  jewelry,  the  precious  stones  forming 
little  flowers,  the  prettiest  thing  you  ever  saw;  it 
is  now  fixed  in  my  hair,  and  is  facing  Mama  who 
cannot  take  her  eyes  off  it."  All  fright  on  the  part 
of  the  girls  was  dispelled  by  the  great  kindness  of 
the  Duchess's  welcome,  and  Lord  Douglas  opened 
the  ball  with  Catherine. 

But  the  Palais  Royal  was  evidently  considered 
too  grown  up,  and  Catherine  describes  in  a  letter 
to  Henry  how  her  Mother,  accompanied  by  her 
eldest  son,^  attended  the  ball  given  by  the  Due 
d'Orleans.  They  were  dazzled  by  the  grandeur 
of  the  rooms  and  the  brilliance  of  the  company, 
though  dismayed  by  the  throng.  The  prettiest 
sight  of  all,  writes  Catherine,  was  when  the  door 
opened  and  the  Duchesse  de  Berri,  attended  by 
sixteen  damsels,  all  came  dancing  into  the  room  in 
fancy  dress: — 

"Like  opera  dancers,  i6  in  number  the  prettiest 

*  The  Duchess  of  Hamilton. 

*Sir  Stephen  Glynne  then  nineteen  years  of  age. 


y  •.rirS'^ 


Catherine  and  Mary  Glynne 
aged  17  and  i 8 

From  a   drawing   by  J.   Slater   at  Hawarden 


Ci)iIDf)ooD  anD  pomb  n 

thing  Mama  ever  saw.  They  formed  into  a  quad- 
rille. They  had  little  black  shoes  with  gold  bows 
and  fancy  dresses;  the  music  was  beautiful  with 
Tyrolean  tunes,  and  the  Gunters^  who  handed  the 
refreshments,  were  all  in  dress  coats  with  swords. 
Mama  and  Ste.  were  fortunate  in  escaping  at  12, 
by  a  little  back  door,  and  were  amused  at  getting 
a  peep  of  the  Cooks,  who  all  appeared  dog  tired." 
They  were  also  allowed  to  attend  Lady  Stuart 
de  Rothsay's  ball  at  the  British  Embassy,  and  one 
or  two  more  special  dances;  Mary,  to  her  great  de- 
light, being  taken  to  the  Opera  to  hear  Malibran, 
to  make  up  for  not  always  accompanying  her  sis- 
ter. Lady  Stuart's  beautiful  daughters,  after- 
wards Lady  Canning  and  Lady  Waterford,  be- 
came great  friends  with  the  Pussies.  Stephen  at- 
tended a  Court  and  was  presented  to  the  King. 
"His  coat  was  a  pretty  brown,  with  cut  steel  but- 
tons and  lace  ruffles  and  frills,  black  satin  shorts 
and  white  silk  stockings.  With  Mama's  sapphire 
and  diamond  brooch  and  his  hair  nicely  dressed, 
he  looked  very  well,"  writes  Catherine  to  Henry. 
She  mentions  one  of  her  partners.  Lord  Aboyne, 
who  "danced  as  if  he  were  twenty  instead  of 
seventy.  Brides  dance  as  much  as  anyone,  and  age 
appears  as  no  reason  for  not  dancing." 

*The  hired  waiters. 


12  Qir0»  (^laDgtone 

Though  still  in  the  schoolroom,  they  had  a 
splendid  time  in  Paris ;  they  danced  with  the  young 
bloods,  both  English  and  foreign,  of  the  day,  about 
whom  they  wrote,  full  of  girlish  rapture,  to  their 
brother  preparing  for  Oxford  at  his  tutor's  house. 

Lady  Glynne,  in  her  loneliness,  leant  much  upon 
her  uncle,  Mr.  Thomas  Grenville,  and  still  more 
upon  her  brother,  George  Neville  Grenville,  Rec- 
tor of  Hawarden.  The  latter  came  to  Hawarden 
in  1813,  shortly  before  the  death  of  his  brother-in- 
law,  Sir  Stephen  Glynne.  He  was  ordained 
Deacon  and  Priest  on  two  succeeding  days,  and 
bad  as  was  the  old  system  of  pitchforking  any  son 
or  near  kinsman  of  the  house  into  the  family  liv- 
ing, irrespective  of  fitness,  it  was  a  good  day  for 
the  large  Parish  of  Hawarden,  the  largest  in 
the  Kingdom,  when  this  very  youthful  Rector  took 
charge.  Up  to  that  date  Hawarden  had  chiefly 
been  notorious  for  its  bad  conduct.  The  first  act 
of  the  new  young  Rector  was  to  call  his  parish- 
ioners together: 

''I  cannot  change  your  hearts,"  he  said  to  them, 
"that  has  to  be  done  by  yourselves  with  the  help 
of  God,  but  I  can  lessen  your  temptations."  And 
accordingly  he  and  Lady  Glynne  did  away  with 
many  public-houses  on  the  estate,  and  established 
a  rule  which  went  far  to  anticipate  the  Sunday 


Cl)iIDl)ooD  anD  goutD  13 

Closing  Act.  They  were  autocrats  in  those  days. 
Two  new  Churches  were  built  in  Hawarden 
Parish  during  his  Rectorship;  schools  were  estab- 
lished in  Hawarden  and  its  districts,  which  flour- 
ished chiefly  through  the  bounty  and  energetic 
help  and  sympathy  of  Lady  Glynne  and  later  of 
her  sons  and  daughters.  Queen  Victoria,  who  with 
her  mother,  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  visited  Hawar- 
den Castle  so  long  ago  as  1832,  mentioned  only  a 
short  time  before  she  died,  to  a  member  of  the  fam- 
ily, how  well  she  remembered  the  fame  of  the 
"beautiful  Miss  Glynnes."  She  first  met  them  at 
Bishopthorpe.  Many  were  the  young  men  that 
frequented  the  parties  at  Hawarden,  and  on  the 
Duke  of  Cambridge  the  impression  left  by  his  visit 
was  more  than  ordinary;  his  friendship  with  Mrs. 
Gladstone  only  ended  with  his  death. 

The  sisters  were  brought  up  with  infinite  and 
most  loving  care  and  discipline,  duty  being  always 
placed  before  pleasure.  Reticence  and  self-con- 
trol, in  those  days,  were  considered  indispensable 
to  good  manners  and  good  breeding.  Not  so  much 
the  condescending  life,  as  the  sense  of  brotherhood, 
the  lifting  up  of  their  friends,  whether  rich  or 
poor,  to  their  own  level;  thinking  more  of  others 
than  of  themselves — this  was  the  essence  of  the 
lady,  the  significance  of  "Noblesse  oblige."    And 


14  Q^t0»  (^laostone 

in  their  hearts  was  the  love  and  fear  of  God — "the 
beginning  of  wisdom."  In  these  days  of  personal 
service,  when  inspiring  examples  and  writings  have 
kindled  the  enthusiasm  and  self-sacrifice  of  so 
many,  the  character  and  aims  of  these  sisters  would 
not  perhaps  be  as  uncommon  as  in  the  earlier  years 
of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Every  year  three  or  four  families,  specially  in- 
timate with  one  another,  were  accustomed,  about 
Christmas  time,  to  assemble  by  turns  at  each 
others'  country  homes — Hawarden  Castle,  Vale 
Royal,  Acton  Park,  and  Norton  Priory.  The 
lovely  daughters  of  Sir  Richard  Brooke,  famous 
for  their  beauty,  were  ever  the  dearest  friends  of 
the  Glynnes.  On  these  occasions  they  met  for  the 
acting  of  plays;  their  refreshments,  on  the  eve- 
ning of  anv  special  performance,  consisted  of  cold 
custard  and  glasses  of  milk  flavoured  with  nutmeg 
— rather  a  contrast  to  modern  ways.  In  later  days, 
at  Hawarden  and  Hagley,  there  were  yearly  plays 
acted  by  the  sons  and  daughters. 

Both  the  sisters  were  excellent  horsewomen  and 
greatly  skilled  with  the  bow  and  arrow.  Archery 
parties,  or  bow  meetings,  as  they  were  called  in 
Wales,  were  the  craze  of  that  day  and  great  was 
the  competition  between  the  country  houses  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Hawarden.    They  visited  their 


C 


C!)flDj)ooD  and  pomb  15 

relations  and  friends,  and  many  of  the  pleasantest 
country  houses  of  England  were  open  to  the  fam- 
ily through  the  ties  of  kinship — Audley  End, 
Stowe,  Vale  Royal,  Wynnstay,  Powderham, 
Dropmore,  Boconoc,  Escrich,  Billingbear,  etc. 
But  the  first  time  the  Pussies,  as  they  were  called, 
were  allowed  to  travel  in  the  mail-coach,  cha- 
peroned by  their  brother  Henry — a  great  event — 
was  in  September,  1837,  when  they  started  on  a 
round  of  visits  in  Scotland  and  first  spent  a  week 
at  Dalmeny. 

Henry  writes  to  his  brother  Stephen  describ- 
ing the  beauties  of  Dalmeny  and  the  extraordinary 
kindness  of  Lord  ^  and  Lady  Rosebery. 

"We  found  here  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Heathcote,  good- 
natured  people — he  seems  very  uncertain  in  his 
politics,  not  caring  to  go  all  lengths  with  Lord 
Melbourne,  yet  not  consenting  to  be  a  Tory.  The 
Listers,  clever  and  agreeable  and  both  of  them 
novelists.  They  draw  and  sing  charmingly.  Lord 
Bathurst  on  his  way  to  Scone  and  Dunrobin. 
Music,  instrumental  and  vocal,  enliven  our  eve- 
nings. Lady  Rosebery  on  the  harp,  her  son,  Bou- 
verie,  on  the  Cello,  and  the  eldest  daughter  at  the 
Pianoforte.  Her  sister,  Louisa,  comes  out  next 
year  and  is  unfortunately,  at  present,  plain.    The 

'  Grandfather  of  the  present  Earl. 


Scottish  Service  very  long  and  dreary,  one  sermon 
following  the  other.  The  Church,  a  good  speci- 
men of  Norman  architecture  inside  and  out,  a  rare 
thing  in  Scotland.  A  most  lovely  view  of  Ar- 
thur's Seat  and  Edinburgh  Castle  from  the 
grounds;  the  scenery  is  enchanting.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lister  draw  most  beautifully  and  are  so  good- 
natured  about  giving  away  their  drawings.  We 
are  to  join  the  Vernons  at  Scone  ^  on  Friday.  A 
loyal  letter  from  Angherad  Lloyd,  raving  of  our 
young  Queen  [then  just  come  to  the  throne],  and 
hot  with  Conservatism.  The  Pussies  are  to  travel 
for  the  first  time  by  mail.  It  will  be  quite  proper 
as  we  have  taken  the  whole  inside  of  the  coach, 
and  so  very  convenient  and  quick  through  country 
not  specially  interesting.  Col.  Harcourt's  mar- 
riage to  Lady  Catherine  Jemkinson  is  announced,^ 
— I  do  not  envy  him,  though  of  course  they  are 
sure  to  be  called  the  happiest  of  the  happy.  The 
papers  relate  an  interview  between  Uncle  Beilby  ^ 
and  Lord  Melbourne  at  Downing  Street.  Lord 
and  Lady  Rosebery  are  perfectly  charming — it  is 
the  most  delightful  country  house  I  ever  was  in." 
The  Pussies  used  to  write  long  letters  to  an  old 
Hawarden   Curate   descriptive   of   their   London 

*The  home  of  Lord  Mansfield. 

"Colonel  Harcourt  had  proposed  to  one  of  the  Pussies. 

•Lord  WenlocJr 


Sir  Stephen  Glynne 

8th  BART. 

From  a  portrait  by  Saunders  at  Hawarden  Castle 


Cf)iIDf)ood  and  ipoutf)  u 

gaieties.  An  account  of  Queen  Victoria's  Corona- 
tion which  they  attended — with  the  dressing  of 
their  hair  in  the  early  morning,  for  they  had  to 
be  in  Westminster  Abbey  by  eight;  and  again  a 
fancy  ball  at  Devonshire  House,  to  which  one  went 
as  Dawn  and  the  other  as  Night. 

''Catherine  and  Mary  Glynne,"  writes  a  daugh- 
ter of  the  latter,  "were  but  one  year  and  a  half 
apart  in  age  and  from  their  childhood,  till  death 
parted  them,  shared  every  interest,  every  sorrow 
or  anxiety,  and  above  all  every  joy.  Married  on 
the  same  day,  the  loving  sisterly  link  was  rather 
doubled  than  weakened,  their  husbands  being 
friends  before  they  became  brothers-in-law,  their 
children  almost  interchangeably  beloved.  The 
sisters  were  alike  tall  and  beautiful,  but  in  char- 
acter there  were  many  differences.  Both  were  in- 
tense lovers  of  children,  both  had  a  charming  gift 
of  humour  and  of  intuition,  practically  they  had 
the  same  friends,  men  and  women  alike.  The  na- 
ture of  the  younger  sister  was  more  reserved,  less 
demonstrative  than  Catherine,  who  was  ever  the 
leader;  both  were  equally  loving  and  beloved.  To 
the  end  they  loved  and  influenced  each  other,  they 
were  one  in  their  outlook  upon  life,  their  high 
moral  standard,  their  religious  principles  and 
their  deep  pride  in  their  beloved  Hawarden  home. 


18  ^t$*  (S^IaDstone 

Both  were  beautiful,  noble  looking  women.  Mary 
had  the  more  regular  features,  her  sister  more 
brilliant  colouring." 

Catherine  had  reigned  in  her  beautiful  home,  as 
Mr.  Gladstone  notes  in  his  Diary,  a  very  Queen. 
Her  Mother's  feeling  for  her  was  little  short  of 
adoration,  and  with  her  radiant  beauty  and  im- 
petuosity of  will  she  carried  everything  be'fore 
her;  her  Mother,  her  brothers,  her  sister  all  moved 
as  planets  round  the  sun.  It  would  not  be  easy 
to  exchange  this  position  of  freedom  and  power, 
for  the  subordinate  role  of  a  wife,  for  the  duties 
and  responsibilities  of  marriage  and  motherhood. 
But  as  we  are  now  to  see  she  fell  in  love. 


CHAPTER  II 

GIRLHOOD  AND  MARRIAGE 

Ir  was  in  November,  1838,  that  William 
Gladstone,  then  twenty-eight  years  of  age, 
met  the  Glynnes  at  Naples.  Being  at  Christ- 
church  with  the  brothers,  Stephen  and  Henry 
Glynne,  he  had  already  visited  Hawarden  Castle. 
He  was  one  of  a  brilliant  group  of  under-gradu- 
ates — Lord  Harris,  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  Can- 
ning, Lord  Lincoln,  Robin  Curzon,  afterwards 
Lord  Zouche,  Sir  R.  Phillimore,  Sir  Francis 
Doyle — who  used  to  meet  at  Tabley  in  Cheshire, 
the  young  owner.  Lord  de  Tabley,  being  also  a 
neighbour  and  an  intimate  friend  of  the  Glynne 
brothers. 

Mr.  Gladstone  arrived  at  one  of  the  principal 
hotels  in  Naples  and  found  it  in  a  great  commo- 
tion— "Una  gran  famiglia  Inglese  e  arrivata 
questa  sera";  Lady  Glynne  and  her  daughters  and 
suite,  as  was  the  fashion  in  those  days,  travelling 
in  great  state  in  their  own  roomy  coach  or  Ber- 
line,  as  it  was  then  called. 

19 


20  ^r0»  <©laDStone 

At  Naples  he  dined  frequently  with  the  Glynnes 
and  accompanied  them  on  their  expeditions,  going 
up  Mount  Vesuvius  with  them.  He  left  Naples 
(he  called  it  "this  Circean  City")  for  Rome  on 
December  3rd,  the  Glynnes  had  already  gone 
there;  here  the  intercourse  was  more  frequent, 
and  his  intimacy  with  the  sisters  grew  in  depth 
and  devotion.  Nearly  every  day  they  met,  and 
he  spent  Christmas  Day  with  them.  There  is  a 
conversation  recorded  in  his  Diary  that  took  place 
in  the  gorgeous  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Mag- 
giore.  They  were  speaking  of  the  immense  and 
costly  amount  of  labour  lavished  on  its  embellish- 
ment. This  led  Catherine  to  contrasting  our  own 
parsimony  in  the  service  of  God  with  our  secular 
luxuries.  Such  speculations  are  now  constantly  in 
the  very  air  we  breathe;  but  at  that  time,  now 
nearly  eighty  years  ago,  they  seemed  little  to  trou- 
ble the  richer  classes. 

"Do  you  think  we  can  be  justified  in  indulging 
ourselves  in  all  these  luxuries?"  she  said  to  him. 

He  was  profoundly  moved. 

"I  loved  her  for  this  question,"  he  wrote  in  his 
Diary — "how  sweet  a  thing  it  is  to  reflect  that 
her  heart  and  will  are  entirely  in  the  hands  of 
God.  May  He,  in  this,  as  in  all  things,  be  with 
her." 


<S>ftIf)ooD  anD  gparriage  21 

To  her  children,   in   after  years,   Mrs.   Glad- 
stone used  to  speak  of  the  tragedy  of  that  moon- 
light evening  in  Rome  when,  in  spite  of  the  glory 
and  the  romance  of  the  circumstances  and  the 
surroundings,  she  failed,  when  they  were  together 
in  the  Coliseum,  to  respond  to  his  first  declaration 
of  love.     Yet  to  the  brother  to  whom  she  wrote 
after  Mr.  Gladstone's  return  to  England,  it  must 
have  been  tolerably  apparent  that  this  condition 
of  things  could  not  last.    Her  interest  in  "Gia"  as 
they  called  him,  was  too  deep — her  constant  ref- 
erences to  him,  her  questions  about  him,  her  ab- 
sorption in  his  first  book  on  "Church  and  State," 
of  which  she  copied  long  extracts  for  her  private 
use. 

Here  are  a  few  passages  from  letters  to  her 
brother  Henry,  written  in  February,  1839,  he  and 
Mr.  Gladstone  having  left  Rome  for  England  to- 
gether. 

"We  had  so  hoped  to  have  heard  from  you  to- 
day at  Marseilles,  we  must  try  and  be  philosophic 
and  wait  patiently  for  another  post." 

She  chatters  of  their  daily  doings,  their  gaieties, 
dinner  parties,  balls,  studios, — they  sat  to  Mac- 
donald  for  their  busts — the  numerous  friends  they 
meet,  above  all  the  intercourse  with   Manning,^ 

*  Afterwards   Cardinal   Archbishop   of  Westminster. 


22  Q^t0»  (g>laD0tone 

to  her  the  most  interesting  and  absorbing — how 
much  one  asks,  for  his  own  sake,  or  how  much  on 
account  of  his  intimacy  with  "Gia?" 

"Write  us  political  news,  everyone  is  so  anx- 
ious here,  and  write  soon.  .  .  .  What  is  the  great 
subject  of  discussion  in  London?  Lord  Glenelg's 
retirement  from  Office,  Gia's  book,  or  Canada? 
...  I  appreciate  very  much  the  generous  feelings 
which  are  expressed  in  his  letter  to  me.  ...  I  can- 
not take  Michael  Angelo's  beautiful  Sonnet  to  my- 
self, but  the  sentiments  contained  in  it  are  so  lofty, 
it  was  impossible  not  to  read  it  without  the  great- 
est delight.  Please  read  this  yourself  to  Gia,  as 
I  particularly  want  the  message  to  be  given  ex- 
actly. .  .  ."  In  a  postscript  she  adds:  "Tell  me 
how  you  get  through  my  message  to  Gia  and  any 
rebound.^  Nothing  could  express  more  honour- 
able feelings  and  taste  than  the  letter  he  wrote 


me." 


Mr.  Gladstone  himself  hardly  seemed  to  realise 
any  sense  of  assurance.  He  speaks  in  his  Diary  of 
his  precipitancy,  of  his  incorrigible  stupidity  and 
the  worthlessness  of  his  afifections.  In  her — Cather- 
ine— he  saw  what  he  most  desired,  the  admiration 
of  sacrifices  made  for  great  objects. 

From  the  early  days  of  April,  when  the  Glynnes 

*  See  Glynnese  Glossary. 


(5irI!)ooD  and  ^artiage  23 

returned  to  their  London  house,  37  Berkeley 
Square,  the  intercourse  was  renewed — he  dined 
with  them,  rode  with  them,  met  them  at  the  break- 
fasts of  Mr.  Rogers,  the  poet,  and  at  many  other 
houses.  Yet  after  an  hour  spent  with  them  on  May 
27th,  he  wrote: 

"But  what  I  ask  is  next  to  an  impossibility." 
On  the  6th  of  June  he  confides  the  state  of  his 
feelings  to  his  father — "Concealment  became  too 
heavy  for  me." 

All  through  these  days  his  time  is  greatly  oc- 
cupied with  work,  in  the  House,  and  in  his  Gov- 
ernment Office.  On  June  8th,  at  Lady  Shelley's 
garden  party  at  Fulham,  Catherine  Glynne  told 
him  that  all  doubts  on  his  part  might  end.  "I  went 
down  with  the  Glynnes  and  here  my  Catherine 
gave  me  herself."  They  walked  apart  in  the  gar- 
den by  the  river,  and  he  revealed  to  her  his  own 
story,  and  what  had  been  the  passionate  desire  of 
his  heart*  He  writes  how  all  this  produced  a 
revulsion  in  her  pure  and  lofty  spirit.  "She  asked 
for  the  earliest  Communion,  that  we  might  go  to- 
gether to  the  Altar  of  Christ."  "May  I  have  from 
my  God  a  due  sense  of  the  value  and  the  sweet- 
ness of  this  gift.  Led  by  her  questions  I  have  given 
her  these  passages  for  canons  of  our  living: — 

*To  take  Holy  Orders. 


24  g^t0»  aiaostone 

"Le  fronde  onde  s'infronda  tutto  1'  orto 
Dell'  Ortolano  Eterno,  am'  io  cotanto, 
Quanto  da  Lui  a  lor  di  bene  e  porto.^ 

"And  Dante  again, 

In  la  Sua  volontate  e  nostra  pace."  ^ 

Mr.  Gladstone  sprang  from  an  old  Scotch  fam- 
ily, originally  a  race  of  Borderers  (there  is  still 
an  old  Gledstanes  Castle).  One  of  his  ancestors, 
Herbert  de  Gledstanes,  appears  in  Sir  Walter 
Scott  as  "gude  at  need."  His  mother  was  descend- 
ed from  Robert  Bruce.  As  a  family  the  brothers 
and  sisters  were  tall  and  of  a  distinguished  aspect. 
He  was  already  a  prominent  member  of  the  Con- 
servative party,  "the  hope  of  the  unbending 
Tories."  He  had  been  in  Parliament  since  he  was 
twenty-two.  At  the  age  of  twenty-four,  Decem- 
ber 26,  1834,  ^^  joined  the  Ministry  of  Sir  Rob- 
ert Peel.  It  is  easy  to  guess  how  the  rare  combina- 
tion of  manliness  and  gentleness,  loftiness  of  aim 
and  purity  of  mind,  the  powerful  intellect  and  the 
pitiful  heart,  appealed  to  a  girl  brought  up  as 
she  had  been,  in  the  love  and  fear  of  God.  A  pas- 
sage in  Mr.  Gladstone's  Diary  reads: 

'Paradiso  XXVI,   64-66:— 

"Love  for  each  plant  that  in  the  garden  grows 
Of  the   Eternal    Gardener  I   prove 
Proportioned  to  the  goodness  He  bestows." 
''Paradiso  III,  85:— 

"In  His  will  is  our   peace," 


(^itlftooD  anD  Q^attiage  25 

June  l8.  "At  the  end  of  a  long  and  chequered 
day — chequered  with  joy,  business  and  excitement, 
I  sit  down  to  write  and  think  a  little.  First,  how 
much  have  I  thought  of  God  to-day  while  my  hand 
was  coursing  over  the  paper?  How  little  have  I 
thought  of  Him  to  thank  Him!  My  blessing  is 
indeed  great.  At  2,  she  and  I  went  to  the  Arch- 
bishop's ^  by  his  desire,  and  he  kissed  Catherine 


twice." 


The  following  day  he  tells  of  calling  with  her 
on  a  tribe  of  her  relations,  including  her  uncle  Mr. 
T.  Grenville;  breakfasting  with  Rogers,  where  he 
met  Thirlwall  and  Lyttelton,  "in  whose  affairs  I 
am  deeply  interested."  On  June  17th  Lord  Lyttel- 
ton became  engaged  to  Mary  Glynne;  one  month 
earlier  she  had  refused  him.  After  his  death  a 
small  packet  was  found  docketed  "Story  of  a 
Month."  The  first  letter  was  from  her  brother, 
Sir  Stephen  Glynne,  declining  on  behalf  of  his 
sister,  the  honour  of  Lord  Lyttelton's  hand.  The 
last  was  Mary's  first  love  letter  to  him. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  told  one  of  her  nieces,  in  later 
years,  how  George  (Lord  Lyttelton),  in  a  tempest 
of  uncontrollable  joy,  rushed  down  the  stairs  into 
the  room  below,  where  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Cath- 
erine were  anxiously  awaiting  developments. 

^Archbishop  Harcourt. 


26  g^t0»  aiaD0tone 

In  Mr.  Gladstone's  Diary.  "Mary  was  much 
overcome,  and  hid  her  face  in  Catherine's  bosom; 
then  they  fled  away  for  a  little."  Mr.  Gladstone 
drew  Lord  Lyttelton  on  to  his  knees.  "For  a  while 
he  could  not  control  his  emotions,  and  yet  he  di- 
rected them  towards  God.  He  is  a  very  noble  and 
powerful  creature." 

"He  was  a  man  of  rare  attainments;  a  beautiful 
scholar,  his  nature  full  of  sharp  contrasts — vigor- 
ous, tempestuous,  devout,  tender." 

They  met  daily,  riding,  walking,  driving.  "Sent 
ofif  a  snowstorm  of  excuses  for  all  pending  par- 
ties." Then  came  a  flight  to  Eton — the  two  pairs 
of  lovers — for  Sunday. 

"There  is  no  end  to  our  subjects — or  to  our  in- 
terruptions," he  says.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  what 
a  bower  of  love  and  ecstasy  the  Berkeley  Square 
house  must  have  become  in  those  summer  months, 
with  the  two  radiant  pairs  of  lovers. 

"Time  flies,  and  yet  in  retrospect  we  seem  to 
have  lived  through  months."  "Nuptial  shop- 
ping." "All  joy  broken  into  shivers  by  constant 
interruption.  I  suppose  the  craving  for  something 
like  continuance  of  repose  by  her  side,  is  the  dis- 
ease of  self-love — we  had  been  very  anxious  to  be 
married  by  Banns,  but  are  reluctantly  compelled 
to  give  it  up — it  is  not  a  matter  on  which  shocking 


H 

< 


(fi)irlj)ood  and  Q^attiage  27 

people  is  worth  while  .  .  .  routing  out  and  strug- 
gling to  arrange  papers  for  C.  .  .  .  Come  sem- 
plice  di  trovar  solo  un  cotal  difetto." 

One  of  Catherine's  dearest  friends,  Lady  Bra- 
bazon,  wrote  to  wish  her  joy  of  marrying  one  who 
would  now  help  her  to  write  and  answer  her  let- 
ters. 

And  here  with  his  orderly  habits  he  must  have 
felt  some  dismay.  She  often,  in  after  life,  used 
to  tease  him — "What  a  bore  you  would  have  been 
if  you  had  married  somebody  as  tidy  as  you." 

On  July  3rd  "Assisting  in  Catherine  and  Mary's 
arrangement  of  books,  etc.,  they  have  lived  with 
community  of  goods — beautiful — settling  papers, 
letters,  etc.,  most  joyously  for  departure." 

Contrary  to  modern  customs  three  weeks  before 
the  wedding  the  bridegrooms  seem  to  have  gone 
down  to  Hawarden  with  Lady  Glynne  and  her 
daughters,  there  to  spend  a  heavenly  time  at  Ha- 
warden, then  in  perfection  of  summer  beauty. 
Riding,  driving,  strolling,  sitting  out  in  the  eve- 
nings, visiting  their  friends,  the  schools,  reading 
aloud. 

When  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Lord  Lyttelton  ar- 
rived at  Hawarden,  as  they  walked  together  down 
the  village  street — the  one  tall  and  upright,  pale, 
resolute,  with  eyes  like  an  eagle;  the  other,  spite 


2S  gpt$.  <&IaD0tone 

of  massive  head  and  intellectual  brow,  somewhat 
rugged  and  uncouth  in  manner  and  appearance — 
he  was  only  twenty-one — it  was  said  by  a  passer- 
by, gazing  with  admiration  on  Mr.  Gladstone, — 
"Isn't  it  easy  to  see  which  is  the  lord?" 

"Kenilworth  aloud  with  dearest," — "much  reai 
intercourse.  What  am  I  to  charge  myself  with 
the  care  of  such  a  being,  and  to  mingle  her  des- 
tiny with  mine?  Instruction  and  profit  on  this 
earth  do  not  usually  come  on  the  wings  of  joy  so 
unmixed." 

On  July  2ist.  "Special  Communion,  George, 
Mary,  Catherine  and  I.  Henry  much  affected — 
many  arrangements  about  rejoicings,  fireworks, 
festivities  for  children  and  old  people.  The  Ne- 
villes arrived.  Jane  Lawley  and  Helen  assisting 
Catherine  and  Mary  in  warmly  greeting  the  old 
people." 

The  eve  of  the  wedding,  settlements  and  pecu- 
niary matters  occupied  the  time,  but  at  midnight 
the  lovers  walked  in  the  garden — "a  fine  night — 
we  spoke  together  of  our  great  felicity." 

On  the  25th  July,  the  wedding  day,  he  speaks 
of  his  "too  sound  slumbers  having  been  broken" 
— "Rose  in  good  time  and  read  the  Psalms."  Soon 
after  ten.  Sir  Watkin  Wynn  having  arrived,  they 
set  off  from  the  Castle  in  twelve  carriages,  start- 


<^irl|)ooli  anD  ^atriage  29 

ing  by  the  park,  over  the  grass,  along  the  moat  into 
and  through  the  village.  "O,  what  a  scene — such 
an  outpouring  of  pure  human  affection  on  these  be- 
loved girls,  combined  with  so  solemn  a  mystery." 
He  describes  every  house  a  bower,  the  road  arched 
and  festooned  with  flowers,  the  deepest  interest  in 
every  face — bands,  processions  of  societies,  the 
crowd  thickening  as  they  approached  the  Church, 
the  road  carpeted,  the  Churchyard  path  strewn 
with  flowers  by  children's  hands.  He  speaks  of 
the  music  breaking  down  what  little  self-control 
he  had  left,  as  he  walked  up  the  crowded  church 
with  Lord  Lyttelton.  At  the  Altar  he  found  his 
beloved  and  they  were  married  first — the  same 
opening  and  conclusion  for  both. 

"Uncle  George^  performed  the  Service  with 
dignity  and  great  feeling,  and  entire  [i.  e.  no  omis- 
sions]. My  beloved  bore  up.  Her  soul  is  as  high 
and  strong  as  it  is  tender."  "Lord  Lyttelton  broke 
down  and  in  all  the  rejoicing  there  were  many  in- 
evitable tears." 

The  sisters  changed  their  bridal  attire  at  the 
Rectory,  the  Lytteltons  honeymooning  at  Hagley, 
the  Gladstones  at  Norton  Priory  in  Cheshire,  the 
home  of  their  dearest  friends  the  Brookes. 

At  five  p.  m.  of  the  same  afternoon,  he  writes 

*Dean  of  Windsor. 


30  g^r0»  (^laD$tone 

his  journal  while  "the  beloved  sleeps  on  the  sofa. 
We  have  read  the  lessons  together.  She  sleeps 
gently  as  a  babe — oh,  may  I  never  disturb  her 
precious  peace." 

On  July  26th  they  read  the  Bible  together — 
''the  daily  practice  will  I  trust  last  as  long  as  our 
joint  lives." 

On  that  day,  looking  back  at  the  Hawarden 
Wedding: — 

"How  can  I  express,"  he  writes,  "the  sense  of 
the  scene  yesterday — it  may  seem  extravagant  to 
dwell  so  much  on  the  accompaniments,  but  it  is 
because  they  did  ennoble  and  sanctify  the  scene, 
and  did  really,  for  the  time,  raise  the  heart  to  a 
high  level  according  with  the  spirit  of  the  great 
mystery  of  Christian  marriage."  And  on  a  later 
day — "Not  only  every  day  but  nearly  every  hour, 
convince  me  of  the  brightness  of  my  treasure,  her 
pure  enduring  brightness." 

Subjects  of  conversation  and  discussion  are  men- 
tioned— on  amusements,  on  the  fallacy  of  private 
judgments,  on  the  Lord's  Day  and  how  it  should 
be  kept,  on  charity  and  expenditure,  on  the  sanc- 
tity of  time  as  a  trust  committed  to  us,  on  the  re- 
sponsibilities of  money.  There  was  much  that 
she  had  to  learn  from  him,  much  that  the  engage- 
ment had  not  shown  her.    She  used  to  tell  us,  long 


(SfrlJjooD  anD  ^attiage  31 

afterwards,  that  it  was  something  of  a  shock  to 
both  sisters  when,  after  marriage,  any  little  wait- 
ing time,  as  at  the  railway  station,  which  during 
their  engagement  would  have  been  spent  in  love 
making,  was  now  spent  in  reading — both  husbands 
carrying  the  inevitable  little  classic  in  their 
pockets.  Out  it  would  come  and  quickly  engross 
the  owner. 

Lord  Lyttelton  was  to  be  seen  at  cricket  matches 
in  the  playing  fields  at  Eton,  lying  on  his  front, 
reading  between  the  overs. 

It  was  a  blissful  honeymoon,  though  must  she 
not  have  felt  that  it  bordered  on  austerity?  His 
stern  habits  of  self-control. 

They  called  on  the  Clergyman  to  arrange  their 
gifts  in  charity. 

The  four  met  again  at  Hawarden,  in  August. 

'^A  beautiful  meeting  between  the  sisters,  Lady 
Glynne  still  depending  as  much  as  ever  on  Cath- 
erine.   A  servants'  ball  that  night." 

Sir  Francis  Doyle,  Professor  of  Poetry  at  Ox- 
ford, was  at  Hawarden  for  the  wedding,  evidently 
playing  the  part  of  best  man  to  one  of  the  two 
bridegrooms.  He  was  one  of  the  illustrious  group 
of  Mr.  Gladstone's  contemporaries,  most  of  whom 
played  a  distinguished  part  in  after  life.  He  gave 
expression  to  his  thoughts  in  a  poem  dedicated  "To 


32  ^t$*  (^laustone 

Two  Sister  Brides"  (now  published  in  his  col- 
lected works) .  The  following  extracts  foreshadow 
something  of  the  part  played  by  the  elder  sister 
in  after  life: — 

High  hopes  are  thine,  O  eldest  flower, 
Great   duties  to  be  greatly   done, 
To  soothe  in  many  a  toil-worn  hour 
The  noble  heart  that  thou  hast  won. 

• 

Covet  not  then  the  rest  of  those 

Who  sleep  through  life  unknown  to  fame; 

Fate  grants  not  passionless  repose 

To  her  who  weds  a  glorious  name. 

He  passes  on  through  calm  or  storm 
Unshaken,  let  what  will  betide: 
Thou  hast  an  office  to  perform 
To  be  his  answering  spirit  bride. 

The  path  appointed  for  his  feet 
Through  desert  wilds  and  rocks  may  go, 
When  the  eye  looks  in  vain  to  greet 
The  gales,  that  from  the  waters  blow. 

Be  thou  a  balmy  breeze  to  him, 
A  fountain  singing  at  his  side, 
A  star  whose  light  is  never  dim, 
A  pillar  to  uphold  and  guide. 

On  August  13th,  the  two  bridal  pairs  set  forth, 
with  their  respective  carriages,  by  sea  to  Greenock, 
and  from  there  they  drove  day  by  day  through 
glorious   scenery — Loch    Katrine   and   the   Tros- 


(^itlbooD  anD  damage  33 

sachs,  Glencoe,  Inveraray,  Dunkeld,  Taymouth, 
("magnificent  in  natural  features,  the  house  would 
be  fine  but  for  the  surpassing  grandeur  around)," 
Aberfeldy,  Blairgowrie  to  Fasque. 

One  can  hardly  conceive  a  honeymoon  so  de- 
lightfully and  unusually  spent,  the  sisters  meeting 
daily  for  meals  and  at  night  for  rest  at  the  Inns, 
comparing  notes.  Sometimes  walking,  sometimes 
riding  or  driving. 

In  a  Biography  is  written  the  following  de- 
scription taken  from  the  diary  of  Henry  Reeve:* 

"Walking  through  the  wild  passes  from  Loch 
Katrine  to  Inversnaid,  two  couples  in  the  party  ex- 
cited our  attention.  Both  handsome  and  dressed 
alike  in  the  Lennox  Plaid.  The  sister  brides  were 
mounted  on  Highland  ponies,  each  one  attended 
by  her  most  faithful  and  attentive  squire,  holding 
her  bridle  over  the  gullies  and  burns.  We  guessed 
they  were  brides,  and  at  last  Charles  Hamilton 
made  a  brilliant  shot  and  we  recognised  them  as 
the  two  sisters  who  were  married  the  other  day 
at  Hawarden  on  the  same  day  to  William  Glad- 
stone and  Lord  Lyttelton.  A  prettier,  happier 
party  never  crossed  the  heather." 

After  a  fortnight  at  Fasque,  their  brother 
Stephen  having  joined  them,  they  posted  to  Bal- 

*  Henry  Reeve,  once  Editor  of  the  Edinburgh  Review. 


34  eir0»  (S5lati0tone 

later  and  Braemar,  In  ecstasy  over  the  Dee  scenery, 
scaling  Loch-na-Gar  "and  we  fare  sumptuously 
every  day." 

Many  reflections  in  his  Diary  and  stern  resolu- 
tions scrupulously  kept.  The  Gladstones  returned 
to  Fasque  in  September,  and  on  the  23rd,  Cath- 
erine wrote  to  Mary,  telling  her  how  she  had  re- 
vealed her  secret  to  her  husband. 

Catherine  to  Mary  23rd  September,  1839: — 
"I  imagine  you  receiving  this  at  Chatsworth, 
dressed  very  smart  and  sitting  in  a  fine  dressing 
room,  unless  in  one  of  the  grand  rooms  below — 
poor  little  thing  you  will  feel  shy,  I  know — I  shall 
long  for  your  letter.  .  .  .  On  Friday  having  felt 
for  about  six  days  so  poorly  that  it  obliged  me  to 
show  William  I  was  not  well,  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  speak  to  him.  We  were  sitting  together  in 
my  room."  And  then  in  a  passage  of  infinite  ten- 
derness and  beauty,  but  too  sacred  for  quotation, 
she  describes  to  this  sister  of  her  heart,  in  what 
way  he  guessed  the  happy  secret — the  old,  old 
secret,  yet  ever  new;  his  whispered  benediction — 
and  then  the  long  silence,  too  deep  for  words,  as 
he  held  her  close  to  his  heart. — "If  you  could  only 
see  his  little  pettings  and  attentions,"  she  writes  in 
conclusion,  "wanting  me  not  to  come  to  Prayers  or 


H 
Pi 
< 

PQ 

w" 
iz; 
O 

C/3 

O 

<: 

o 
w 
t3     Iz: 

o 
w 
o 

K 

K 
K 


(^itIf)ooD  anD  Carnage  35 

dinner  or  do  anything  that  tires  me.     I  have  not, 
however,  failed  in  any  of  these." 

How  is  she  to  tell  him  her  secret?  In  her  eyes 
the  happy  tears  glisten — if  she  can  only  find  words 
— heart  close  to  heart,  she  will  whisper  to  him  all 
her  trembling  rapture.  ...  A  cradle  will  hold 
her  dream — in  the  morning  it  will  waken  and  it 
will  reveal  the  image  of  her  beloved. 

Lass  der  feuchten  Perlen  ungewohr.te  Zier 

Freudig  hell  erzittern  in  dem  Auge  mir. 

Wiisst  ich  nur  mit  Worten,  wie  ich's  sagen  soil ; 

Komm  und  birg  dein  Antlitz  hier  an  meiner  Brust, 

Will  in's  Ohr  dir  fliistern  alle  meine  Lust. 

Bleib'  an  meinem  Herzen,  fiihle  dessen  Schlag, 

Dass  ich  fest  und  fester  nur  dich  driicken  mag, 

Fest  und  fester! 

Hier,  an  meinem  Bette  hat  die  Wiege  Raum, 

Wo — sie  still  verberge  meinem  holden  Traum; 

Kommen  wird  der  Morgen,  wo  der  Traum  erwacht, 

Und  daraus,  dein  Bildniss  mir  entgegen  lacht — 

Dein  Bildniss  ^ 

And  another  day  she  says  to  her  sister  from  Ha- 
warden,  in  the  following  year:  "My  dearest,  I 
found  your  letter  upon  arriving  here  very  re- 
freshing for  the  getting  home  renews  our  separa- 
tion. It  was  blue  to  be  without  you,  specially 
here.  How  disturbed  we  used  to  be  when  one  of 
us  was  out  of  the  room  for  any  little  time  even :  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at  now,  when  miles  and 

*  Words  immortalized  by  Schumann  for  all  lovers. 


36  Qir0»  (^laDStone 

miles  have  parted  us  and  you  can  no  longer  enter 
the  room." 

The  list  of  books  mentioned  as  read  during  the 
honeymoon  and  its  continuation  at  Fasque: — 

Scott,  Trench,  Keble,  Lyttelton's  Dialogues, 
Bishop  of  London  on  Education,  Hope,  Hallam, 
Dickens  (finished  Nicholas  Nickleby:  ''Its  length 
will,  I  fear  sink  it — the  tone  very  human — he  is 
most  happy  in  touches  of  natural  pathos — the  mo- 
tives in  the  book  are  not  those  of  religion"). 
Rothe's  Anf'dnge  der  Christlichen  Kirche  is  one  of 
the  books  studied,  but  surely  not  by  her!  Mr. 
Gladstone's  copy,  now  at  St.  Deiniol's  Library  at 
Hawarden,  bears  signs  of  most  serious  reading, 
copiously  marked,  during  the  honeymoon.  The 
books  strike  one  as  being  rather  severe.  But  there 
seems  to  have  been  plenty  of  diversion;  the  two 
delighted  in  billiards  and  chess.  In  the  latter 
Mrs.  Gladstone  must  have  shown  no  little  skill. 
The  tradition  survives  that  Mr.  Gladstone  beat 
Mrs.  Gladstone,  that  Mrs.  Gladstone  beat  Lord 
Lyttelton,  and  that  Lord  Lyttelton  beat  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. In  the  autumn  of  his  marriage  year  he  re- 
marks— "C  and  I  in  deadly  conflict.  (Chess)  too 
great  an  expenditure,  perhaps,  of  thought  and  in- 
terest." 

They  remained  at  Fasque  for  two  months,  then 


(^itlfjooD  anD  Carriage  37 

posted  through  Scotland  and  England,  visiting  va- 
rious country  houses,  among  them  Escrich,  the 
home  of  her  uncle  and  aunt,  "where  C.  is  loved  as 
a  child,"  reaching  Hawarden  on  Christmas  Eve, 
where  they  find  the  Lytteltons.  The  Brabazons 
were  of  the  party.  In  the  Diary  he  describes  this 
greatest  friend  of  his  wife^: — 

"A  discussion  with  Lady  Brabazon  on  Ireland 
and  the  Irish  Church — the  prettiest  sight  possible 
— she  is  so  ingenuous,  sincere,  acute,  earnest,  play- 
ful and  inconsistent,  her  propositions  being  found- 
ed on  single  and  reciprocally  contradictory  in- 
stincts, never  compared  and  reviewed  by  the  un- 
derstanding. In  short  most  characteristically 
feminine." 

Their  first  parting  was  January  12th,  1840 — 
she  going  to  Hagley. 

"Left  my  own  at  Wolverhampton — a  week's 
parting  stings." 

But  he  joined  her  at  Hagley  on  January  22nd, 
and  together  they  went  to  London,  living  in  his 
father's  house  in  Carlton  Gardens  until  the  house 
Mr.  Gladstone  had  bought  was  furnished  and 
ready.  The  first  starting  of  their  London  home, 
13  Carlton  House  Terrace,  was  a  great  event;  it 
was  undertaken  by  both  in  the  spirit  of  the  ut- 

*Lady  Brabazon  was  daughter  of  Sir  R.  Brooke. 


38  ^t0»  ($lati0tone 

most  seriousness  and  sense  of  responsibility:  "Ex- 
cept the  Lord  build  the  house:  their  labour  is  but 
lost  that  build  it." 

The  house  was  large  and  grand  for  a  couple 
unencumbered  by  children,  but  Lady  Glynne  had 
her  rooms  there  while  in  London,  and  the  Lyttel- 
tons  always  found  there  a  home  and  a  welcome. 
Much  pains  were  taken  in  the  preparation  of 
household  rules  and  regulations.  Daily  Family 
Prayers,  and  on  Sundays  he  wrote  a  short  address 
for  Evening  Prayers.  He  taught  in  the  Sunday 
School  at  Bedfordbury,  Chapel  of  Ease  to  St. 
Martin's  in  the  Fields,  and  so  great  was  their  sense 
of  parochial  duty  that  there  was  a  yearly  school 
feast  on  the  terrace  besides  constant  visiting,  in 
the  parish. 

The  Lytteltons  first  came  to  stay  on  March  26th, 
1840.  Both  the  sisters  had  happy  hopes  for  the 
following  summer.  On  April  28th  the  first  book- 
case was  put  up.  In  speaking  gravely  of  buying 
"material  things"  Mr.  Gladstone  notes  that 
"Beauty  is  beauty  even  in  furniture."  They  ar- 
ranged a  servant's  library  with  great  thought  and 
care  and  in  all  things  their  aims  were  for  the  good 
of  others. 

They  entertained  largely  and  very  soon  started 
the  Thursday  10  o'clock  breakfasts  which  were  so 


(^itI!)ooti  anD  ^attiage  39 

interesting  a  feature  in  their  lives.  They  were 
greatly  sought  after  and  entered  into  the  social 
entertainments  of  the  day,  visiting  (often  accom- 
panied by  a  baby  in  arms)  the  stately  homes  of 
their  friends. 


CHAPTER  III 

DIARIES  IN  EARLY  MARRIED  LIFE 

MRS.  GLADSTONE  was  no  expert  in 
Diary  jottings,  and  the  few  that  re- 
main show  signs  of  having  been  under- 
taken from  a  sense  of  duty,  certainly  not  from  a 
sense  of  pleasure — unlike  her  letters  they  are  not 
quite  alive.  To  people  like  her  the  stimulus,  the 
inspiration  of  letter-writing  lies  in  the  knowledge 
that  they  are  written  to  and  for  one  particular  per- 
son— in  a  Diary  there  is  no  direct  sense  of  inter- 
course, and  the  lack  of  an  audience  becomes  to 
some  as  deadening  as  talking  in  an  empty  room. 
Here  and  there  we  come  across  an  interesting  note, 
but  on  the  whole  they  give  little  impression  of  the 
brilliant  social  and  political  circle  in  which  they 
lived. 

It  was  early  in  1840  that  the  first  entries  were 
made — dinners  with  the  Archbishop  of  York 
(Harcourt)  to  meet  Queen  Adelaide,  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Cambridge,  etc.    At  Mr.  Hallam's 

she  sits  next  to  Guizot,  who  speaks  English  to 

40 


Diarieg  in  dBarlp  Carried  Life        41 

her,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grote,  the  Hawtreys.  Quizzi- 
cal remarks  on  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Grote  and 
on  the  manner  in  which  Marie,  Marchioness  of 
Ailesbury,  dresses  her  hair. 

She  never  goes  to  a  party  at  Buckingham  Pal- 
ace without  an  expression  of  special  appreciation 
of  the  girl  Queen's  grace  and  dignity.  Her  maj- 
esty was  only  twenty  and  some  awkwardness  and 
shyness  would  only  have  been  natural.  Her  mar- 
riage with  the  Prince  Consort  took  place  a  few 
months  after  the  double  wedding  at  Hawarden, 
and  this  fact  made  a  special  link  between  Her 
Majesty  and  the  sister  brides.  In  the  years  that 
followed  there  was  constant  comparing  of  notes 
as  to  their  respective  children,  as  will  be  recorded 
later  on.  Her  first  meeting  with  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  was  at  the  Duke  of  Northumberland's 
house — "He  went  out  of  his  way  to  speak  to  Wil- 
liam— very  interesting  to  watch  the  people's  man- 
ners with  him." 

In  June  of  that  year  the  first  boy  was  born.  To 
the  parents  the  ever  new  miracle  of  life  causes 
them  to  regard  this  event  as  quite  out  of  the  com- 
mon and  to  consider  the  baby  as  different  as  pos- 
sible from  all  other  babies.  His  mother  says  of 
his  Christening  at  St.  Martins',  "He  never  cried 
through  the  whole  Morning  Service,  and  the  man- 


42  ^r0»  aiaD0tone 

ner  in  which  he  threw  out  his  arms  as  Henry  re- 
ceived him  was  quite  over-powering.  Godfathers 
and  Godmother,  Mr.  Hope,  Mr.  Manning  and 
Mary."  Meriel  Lyttelton  was  born  one  fortnight 
later. 

The  following  year  she  had  the  delight  of  sit- 
ting next  the  Iron  Duke  at  the  house  of  the  Arch- 
bishop of  York.  "I  was  pleased  to  think  he  had 
spoken  to  me  before  either  of  us  died — I  have 
long  wished  for  this."  In  April,  1841,  she  men- 
tions first  meeting  the  Prime  Minister.  This  was 
at  the  house  of  Lady  Jersey,  whose  son.  Lord  Vil- 
liers,  was  just  engaged  to  the  daughter  of  Sir  Rob- 
ert Peel.  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  deeply  flattered  to 
find  that  the  great  man  had  asked  to  be  introduced 
to  her. 

In  September,  1841,  she  was  present  at  the  Con- 
secration of  Bishop  Selwyn — "That  fine  touching 
Service,  never  to  be  heard  without  emotion,  but  in 
the  present  instance  how  peculiarly  affecting.  He 
was  leaving  his  native  land  and  all  that  he  held 
most  dear.  .  .  .  We  visited  the  Bishop  at  his  house 
at  Eton  so  as  to  be  present  at  the  dinner  given  by 
Mr.  Coleridge  the  day  before  the  farewell  Sermon 
at  Windsor.  There  were  forty  present,  I  sat  be- 
tween Judge  Patterson  and  Dr.  Hawtrey,  the  Head 
Master.    Mr.  Coleridge  proposed  the  health  of  the 


'■•1 


3 


w 

Q 

< 

K 

H 

a 
w 

H 

O 

o 

H 
I-) 

W 
H 

H 
>< 

Q 
< 

H 
t-i 
C/2 

0« 

W 
Q 

<; 

w 
;z; 
o 

H 
i/l 
Q 
< 

o 


Diatie0  in  €atlp  Q^arrieD  MU        43 

Bishop  in  a  touching  speech,  for  which  the  Bishop 
returned  thanks.  Devoted  to  the  service  of  God 
he  is  able  to  feel  the  step  he  has  taken  not  as  a  sac- 
rifice but  as  a  privilege:  he  unites  unusual  tender- 
ness of  feeling  to  great  manliness  ©f  character. 
The  scene  was  an  extraordinary  one.  Casting  the 
eye  down  a  long  table,  most  of  the  guests  were  in 
tears,  men  and  women  sobbing,  and  poor  old  Dr. 
Keate  ^  (to-day  was  my  first  introduction  to  him), 
his  head  bowed  down  upon  the  table,  his  face 
buried  in  his  handkerchief.  I  never  witnessed 
such  devotion.  The  farewell  Sermon  at  Windsor 
was  striking  and  affecting.  'Thou  has  set  my  feet 
in  a  large  room.'  A  crowded  Congregation,  not 
even  standing  room." — "Evidently  he  is  not  allow- 
ing himself  to  think  of  returning  to  live  in  Eng- 
land. Very  touching  was  the  way  he  spoke  to  me 
of  his  wife — 'She  feels  just  as  I  could  wish — all 
the  tenderness  of  a  woman  joined  to  the  greatest 
resolution.'  " 

London  is  evidently  lonely  to  her  with  her  hus- 
band's long  hours  of  official  work.  (He  was  then 
Vice-President  of  the  Board  of  Trade  and  Master 
of  the  Mint.)  "I  am  greatly  relieved  to  be  with 
him,  but  he  works  hard  all  the  time  he  is  at  home 
and  it  is  a  little  dreary  sometimes."    No  wonder, 

*Late  Head  Master  of  Eton,  1809-1834. 


44  git0»  <2^IaD0tone 

when  one  remembers  that  in  Office  it  was  habitual 
with  him  to  work  fourteen  hours  a  day.  "I  have 
been  reading  Hook's  Sermons,  and  Warren's  Ten 
Thousand  a  Year,  the  latter,  although  vulgar,  is 
clever  and  interesting." 

On  January  6,  1842,  "I  am  thirty  to-day — ter- 
rible thought.  We  had  a  dinner  party  for  Uncle 
Tom.^  He  sat  an  hour  with  me  in  the  afternoon 
— as  he  walked  from  Hamilton  Place  and  back, 
this  was  pretty  well  for  87."  She  mentions  a  City 
dinner  to  meet  the  Prince  Consort — "Peel  spoke 
well,  and  the  Prince  was  evidently  afifected  by  his 
allusion  to  the  dear  ties  which  bound  him  (the 
Prince)  to  England.  Elizabeth  Fry  sat  between 
the  Prince  and  the  Prime  Minister." 

That  month  she  mentions  in  her  Diary  how  at 
Hagley,  "Willy  and  Meriel,  at  a  year  and  a  half, 
play  very  prettily  together.  Both  kneel  down 
when  told  and  put  their  hands  together  and  say, 
'Papa,  Mama,  Amen.'  Meriel  the  merriest.  He 
obstreperous  and  a  complete  boy — I  like  to  feel 
they  have  been  taught  to  kneel  and  put  their  hands 
together  before  they  could  speak,  and  anticipate 
great  delight  when  their  little  minds  go  with  their 
outward  actions." 


*  Right  Hon.  T.  Grenville.     He  bequeathed  his  famous  library  at 
Dropmore  to  the  British  Museum. 


Diatie0  in  €atlp  ®attieD  Life        45 

"I  am  looking  after  Lady  de  Tabley — the  more 
I  see  of  her  the  more  I  like  her — no  one  can  prop- 
erly appreciate  her  who  does  not  know  her  well — 
such  purity  and  goodness  with  great  unselfishness 
of  disposition  and  devoted  to  her  husband  and 
children." 

They  spent  a  week  at  Magdalene  College  at 
Cambridge,  and  she  is  struck  by  the  great  honour 
paid  to  her  husband,  the  intense  interest  taken  in 
him. 

January  20th,  1842.  "William^  met  the  King 
of  Prussia  at  Bunsen's.  H.  M.  was  full  of  his  book 
[Church  and  State~\.  Lady  Canning  the  only  lady 
except  the  hostess.  A  queer  medley — Clergy, 
Quakers,  scientists  and  politicians.  I  was  dining 
with  Mrs.  Grenville,  meeting  the  Duchess  of 
Sutherland,^  Lord  and  Lady  Mahon,  Mr.  Har- 
court,  Mr.  Samuel  Rogers.  I  was  pleased  with 
the  Duke  and  Duchess — she  spoke  nicely  and  natu- 
rally about  nursing  her  babies." 

She  attends  parties  at  Stafford  House  and  Aps- 
ley  House,  given  in  honour  of  the  King.  "The 
Duke  of  Wellington  sat  close  to  the  pianoforte 
listening  to  the  music,  apparently  lost  to  every- 
thing besides."  She  sits  next  Lord  Stanley  (after- 
wards Prime  Minister)  and  reveals  in  his  wit  "at 

*  Frederick  William  IV.  *  Afterwards  their  dearest  friend. 


46  gir0,  aiaDstone 

all  events  he  can  shake  off  the  cares  of  Office." 

The  Prime  Minister  had  made  an  offer  to  Mr. 
Gladstone,  February,  1842,  which  had  as  usual 
been  confided  to  her. 

February  7th.  "I  in  my  turn  had  to  tell  some- 
thing to  William  to-day.  He  is  in  great  spirits, 
and  what  joy  did  it  not  give  me  when  he  told  me 
I  had  been  of  some  use  to  him  the  day  before. 
In  the  midst  of  such  toil  as  his,  it  is  often  a  grief 
to  me  how  little  real  assistance  I  can  be  to  him." 

February  13.  "A  note  from  Sir  Robert  Peel 
desiring  William  to  follow  Lord  John  Russell 
in  the  House  on  Monday,  on  the  Corn  Laws.  He 
made  no  preparation  to-day." 

February  14.  'This  has  been  a  happy  chance 
which  fixed  my  night  at  the  House  of  Commons 
for  his  speech.  I  found  myself  nearly  upon  Lady 
John  Russell's  lap,  with  Lady  Palmerston  and 
other  wives  near — funny,  we  began  talking,  though 
before  unacquainted,  and  I  told  her  my  husband 
was  to  answer  hers,  which  news  she  received  with 
the  greatest  interest,  she  said  her  heart  was  beat- 
ing, and  she  was  all  attention  when  Lord  John 
began.  He  spoke  for  an  hour  and  a  half  with 
eloquence  and  cleverness.  It  was  quite  pain  to 
me  before  William  rose,  but  before  he  had  said 


Dfatie0  in  Catip  a^artfeD  Mtt        47 

many  words,  there  was  something  at  once  so  spirit- 
ed and  so  collected  In  his  manner  that  all  fright 
was  lost  in  intense  interest  and  delight.  Pride  is 
perhaps  not  the  right  feeling — great  thankfulness 
was  mixed  up  with  it.  We  heard  him  very  well — 
he  was  rapid  and  without  the  smallest  hesitation 
throughout.  Peel  was  evidently  delighted,  and 
from  all  I  gather,  this  speech  has  made  a  great 
sensation.  We  had  coffee  in  our  room — how  snug 
I  need  hardly  describe — indeed  I  could  not." 

This  was  Mr.  Gladstone's  first  great  speech  on 
the  Corn  Laws,  a  landmark  in  their  lives,  as  it  was 
in  history,  signifying  his  first  fundamental  diver- 
gence with  Protection. 

The  Bill  he  was  defending.  Introduced  by  the 
Prime  Minister  for  lessening  the  duty  on  corn,  was 
really  what  Lord  Morley  calls  "the  first  invasion 
of  the  old  Tory  Corn  Law  of  1827." 

The  epoch  was,  in  Mr.  Gladstone's  own  words, 
''an  agitated  and  expectant  age."  He  had  inherit- 
ed the  system  of  protection,  almost  as  he  had  in- 
herited his  religion,  but  as  he  reached  manhood 
it  was  qualified  by  his  belief  In  Mr.  Huskisson.  In 
1841,  his  mind  was  "a  sheet  of  white  paper."  But 
as  Vice-President  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  he 
worked  hard,  and  every  day  so  spent  "beat  like 
a  battering  ram  on  the  unsure  fabric  of  my  offi- 


48  ^r0»  aiaD$tone 

cial  protectionism.  By  the  end  of  that  year  I  was 
far  gone  in  the  opposite  sense."  He  was  wrestling 
w^Ith  the  difficulties  of  two  opposed  systems.  Into 
the  Intricacies  of  the  measures  proposed  by  Sir 
Robert  Peel  for  the  modification  of  the  Corn 
Laws,  there  Is  no  need  to  enter.  As  a  subordi- 
nate though  always  influential  member  of  the 
Government,  Mr.  Gladstone's  mind  worked  ahead 
of  the  plans  of  his  Chief.  With  further  authority, 
after  his  appointment  In  1842  as  President  of  the 
Board  of  Trade,  he  passed  from  a  sliding  scale  and 
its  "vicious  operation"  on  the  corn  trade,  to  his 
great  work  of  tariff  revision,  the  removal  of  hun- 
dreds of  restrictions,  and  the  practical  acceptance 
of  the  principles  of  Mr.  Cobden.  In  the  course 
of  six  years  he  freed  three  hundred  and  seventy- 
one  commodities  from  taxation;  thus  he  put  it  into 
the  power  of  the  people  to  buy  food  and  many 
other  necessities  that,  up  till  then,  had  been  prac- 
tically out  of  their  reach. 

February  15.  Sir  T.  Fremantle  and  Mr.  G. 
Hope  we  met  in  our  early  walk.  They  praised  the 
speech  and  told  me  how  every  one  was  talking  of 
It.  William's  father  nearly  upset  me  In  his  en- 
thusiasm, his  eyes  filling  with  tears. 

February  16.  "William  Is  so  modest  about  his 
speech    and   yet   he   literally   cannot   escape   the 


Diatje0  in  OBatlp  ^atrieD  Life        49 

knowledge  of  his  success — he  turns  the  subject  by 
saying — 'It  is  better  not  to  speak  of  it'  " 

''Many  congratulations." 

February  20th.  "I  have  had  very  little  of  Wil- 
liam this  week,  and  have  felt  unduly  vexed.  I  fear 
he  must  get  ill  from  this  excessive  labour.  We 
went  to  Church  together  on  Wednesday.  I  have 
great  comfort  in  my  darling  boy — I  cannot  be  too 
thankful." 

Her  life  is  very  full  of  social  engagements  and 
she  met  and  conversed  with  many  interesting  peo- 
ple— Sidney  Smith,  Wordsworth,  Moore,  etc.  She 
occasionally  dined  out  alone — "which  I  detest." 
She  records  a  talk  with  Lord  Mahon^  regarding 
her  husband,  "his  manner  is  so  straightforward 
and  his  arguments  convincing."  Among  other 
things  Lord  Ripon  said:  "I  see  clearly  his  des- 
tination, but  the  first  step — he  will  be  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer."  She  delighted  in  Lord  Stan- 
ley, losing  her  awe  of  him.  They  compared  notes 
as  to  official  life,  and  Lord  Stanley  told  her  how, 
late  at  night,  with  his  feet  in  hot  water,  he  partook 
of  the  most  gossamer  meal;  subsequently  reading 
a  novel  to  compose  himself  to  sleep.  When  Chief 
Secretary  for  Ireland,  he  told  her,  he  worked 
eighteen  hours  a  day — he  maintained  that  with 

^Afterwards  Lord  Stanhope. 


50  Q^r0»  aiaD0tone 

strenuous  mental  work  there  is  no  need  for  bodily 
exercise.  He  prides  himself  on  twenty  years'  ex- 
perience. He  took  of]f  various  tricks  in  speakers 
of  note,  specially  Peel,  who,  he  declares,  is  often 
exceedingly  nervous.  He  told  anecdotes  so  well 
— one  of  a  dinner  at  Peel's,  when  a  boring  man 
sitting  next  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  regaled  him 
with  long  trolls^  on  India.  The  Duke  sat  silent, 
his  chin  on  his  chest,  with  an  occasional  grunt;  the 
bore  went  on  and  on,  till  the  Duke  remarked  quiet- 
ly in  a  pause,  "I  have  been  in  India." 

She  describes  a  Fancy  Dress  Ball  at  the  Palace, 
where  "Mary  went  as  Henrietta  Maria,  and  I  as 
Claude,  wife  of  Francis  I — deep  crimson  petti- 
coat and  cap,  large  flowing  sleeves  of  tissue.  The 
sight  very  striking — specially  the  royal  proces- 
sion." 

Putney  was  deep  in  the  country  at  that  time  and 
they  much  enjoyed  going  out  to  Ripon  House 
for  dinner.  Lord  and  Lady  Ripon  liked  her  to 
come,  when  tired  or  delicate,  for  change  of  air. 

In  July,  1842,  she  records  how  glad  she  was  to 
be  handed  in  by  the  Prime  Minister  and  could 
tell  him  herself  how  deeply  she  had  been  touched 
by  the  words  he  had  written  about  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. 

*  Nursery   Rigmarole.     See   Glynnese   Glossary. 


Dfarie0  fn  OBarlp  ^atrfeD  Life        51 

"At  no  time,"  he  wrote  in  June,  1842,  "in  the 
annals  of  Parliament  has  there  been  exhibited  a 
more  admirable  combination  of  ability,  extensive 
knowledge,  temper  and  discretion — your  feelings 
must  be  gratified  in  the  highest  degree  by  the  suc- 
cess which  has  naturally  and  justly  followed  his 
intellectual  exertions,  and  that  the  capacity  to 
make  such  exertions  is  combined,  in  his  case,  with 
such  purity  of  heart  and  integrity  of  spirit." 

Sir  Robert  Peel  told  her  he  had  read  a  letter 
from  the  Duke  of  Wellington  soon  after  he  entered 
the  army,  in  which  he  expresses  an  earnest  hope 
that  he  may  be  able  to  resign  his  Commission  "as 
there  seemed  no  chance  of  any  promotion  for  him. 
Had  his  prayer  been  granted  the  course  of  history 
might  indeed  have  been  changed.  Peel  had  been 
shown  a  most  touching  letter  to  the  Queen,  from 
the  King  of  France^  on  the  death  of  his  son. 

"Peel  told  me  he  required  very  little  sleep,  and 
could  get  but  little  rest  when  his  mind  was 
occupied.  He  regretted  the  amount  of  political 
power  which  the  Duke  of  Wellington  still  had." 

She  describes  Princess  Royal  as  a  very  interest- 
ing child,  the  image  of  the  Queen.  "I  played  on 
the  Pianoforte  which  delighted  her,  she  tried  to 
dance  and  when  I  stopped  called  for  'more'  [she 

*  Louis  Philippe. 


52  gpr0»  (DIaU0tone 

was  then  twenty  months  old].  The  Prince  of 
Wales  a  fine  fair  satisfactory  baby  upon  whom 
William  and  I  gazed  with  deep  interest.  We 
kissed  his  little  hand.  Who  could  look  at  him  and 
think  of  his  destiny  without  emotion?"  This 
recalls  the  occasion  fifty  years  later,  when  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gladstone  paid  their  respects  to  the  little 
Prince  David,  who  is  now  Prince  of  Wales,  then 
one  year  old. 

In  September,  1842,  Mr.  Gladstone,  while  out 
shooting  at  Hawarden  had  a  narrow  escape.  His 
gun  went  off  as  he  was  muzzle  loading,  blowing 
away  the  first  finger  of  the  left  hand. 

"What  a  day  I  might  have  to  record,"  she  writes 
in  her  Diary.  "God  has  been  merciful  to  me;  may 
the  memory  of  it  sink  into  my  heart  and  the  rest 
of  my  days  prove  my  gratitude.  I  drove  to  meet 
the  shooting  party  in  the  Irish  car.  I  met  Henry. 
His  pale  face  aroused  my  fears.  'What  has  hap- 
pened to  William?'  How  can  I  express  what  I 
felt  before  he  could  answer.  O,  Gracious  God, 
was  all  earthly  happiness  to  be  dashed  away? — I 
found  my  precious  one  at  the  Rectory  calm  and 
cheerful,  only  thinking  of  his  escape  and  how  to 
make  the  best  of  it  for  me.  It  was  then  3,  and  the 
accident  had  happened  at  2.  The  whole  time  be- 
fore the  operation  and  even  while  it  was  going  on, 


Dfarfes  fn  Carip  a^arrfeD  Mtt        53 

never  did  one  word  of  complaint  pass  his  lips, 
patient,  brave,  gentle  and  even  cheerful."  Two 
operations  proved  to  be  necessary,  as  the  surgeon 
first  used  the  knife  in  the  wrong  place,  and  if  the 
absence  of  all  anaesthetics  Is  remembered,  the 
agony  of  pain  which  Mr.  Gladstone  suffered  with 
absolute  serenity  testified  to  his  self-control.  "I 
sat  in  the  next  room"  (she  was  not  allowed  to  be 
with  him,  as  her  confinement  was  to  take  place  in 
October),  "till  Mr.  Phillimore  came.  He  was 
overcome  by  his  emotion  and  burst  into  tears;  the 
extraordinary  courage  shown  by  William  would 
be  a  lesson  to  him,  he  said,  through  life.  He  had 
held  the  patient's  hand  throughout  the  operations. 
Little  time  was  lost  in  moving  him  to  the  Castle, 
and  he  was  given  a  composing  draught  for  the 
night.  How  sweet  was  the  consciousness  to  me  of 
his  quiet  breathing  as  I  watched  him  while  he 
slept." 

They  were  able  to  get  to  London  on  the  tenth 
day,  and  for  another  fortnight  they  led  as  quiet  a 
life  as  was  possible  under  the  circumstances.  "The 
poor  hand  goes  on  well,  there  are  no  untoward 
symptoms,  no  fever  or  swelling,  and  oh,  the  differ- 
ence in  the  dressing  of  the  wound  and  the  band- 
ages; Scott  does  all  he  can  to  build  up  his  strength. 


54  Qit0»  (5laD0tone 

We  play  at  Chess  most  nights  and  are  very  snug 
and  quiet." 

1 8th.  October.  "Drove  in  the  Park  with  Will- 
iam. My  little  girl  was  born  at  8  p.  m.,  a  fine 
healthy  baby  with  pretty  features." 

The  babies,  from  the  scanty  records  in  her 
Diary,  seemed  to  arrive  very  casually  and  made 
little  interruption  in  the  social  life.  But  there  is 
a  separate  record  of  the  children,  in  a  book  full 
of  delicious  notes  and  descriptions,  hardly  suitable 
for  quotation,  but  revealing  the  beautiful  mother 
love  and  the  utmost  watchfulness  and  devoted  care. 
Nothing  seemed  to  escape  her  vigilant  eye  in  their 
comings  and  their  goings,  in  their  characteristics, 
all  the  little  ailments  and  their  treatment,  the  little 
sayings  and  doings.  No  tiniest  seed  of  character 
passed  unheeded.  During  the  first  thirteen  and 
a  half  years  of  marriage  eight  children  were  born 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone,  and  ten  during  the 
same  period  to  Lord  and  Lady  Lyttelton,  so  as  it 
will  readily  be  believed,  there  was  frequent  com- 
paring of  notes  between  the  sisters.  When  apart 
they  wrote  daily  to  one  another;  together,  they  still 
passed  a  great  deal  of  their  time  in  the  capacious 
London  house  in  Carlton  House  Terrace,  many 
weeks  spent  by  the  Lytteltons  at  Hawarden  or  the 
Gladstones  at  Hagley.    There  was  still  much  com- 


Diaries  in  OBatlp  ^atcieD  Life        55 

munity  of  goods  between  the  Pussies — interchange 
of  servants,  clothes,  even  furniture,  etc. 

In  1847  there  were  eleven  children  in  the  house 
under  seven — six  Litteltons  and  five  Gladstones. 
One  can  scarcely  imagine  how  anyone  could  safely 
cross  the  room  with  such  a  crowd  about  the  floor. 

In  the  inimitable  Glynnese  Glossary  Lord 
Lyttelton  wrote  a  few  years  later: — "On  entering 
a  room  at  Hagley  or  Hawarden,  during  one  of 
those  great  confluences  of  families  which  occur 
among  the  Glynnese,  and  finding  seventeen  chil- 
dren upon  the  floor  under  the  age  of  twelve,  and 
consequently  all  inkstands,  books,  carpets,  furni- 
ture, ornaments,  in  intimate  intermixture  and  in 
every  form  of  fraction  and  confusion," — etc. 

In  these  luxurious  days  of  rapid  motion,  of 
trains  and  motors  instead  of  the  stage  coach,  the 
private  travelling  carriage,  or  the  creeping  trains 
of  those  days,  one  reflects  with  astonishment, 
almost  with  incredulity,  on  these  vast  pilgrimages, 
with  their  avalanches  of  mothers  and  nurses  and 
little  ones,  from  Hawarden  to  Hagley  or  London, 
or  vice  versa.  In  June,  1843,  "Left  Harwarden, 
seventeen  of  us  without  counting  the  children." 
"Lytteltons  went  away,  eighteen  souls  in  all."  So 
we  read  in  Mrs.  Gladstone's  letters  or  Diary. 

"Weighed  the  babies,  Agnes  and  Charles,  she  is 


56  ^t0»  aiaD0tone 

14  lb,  he  is  14.7.  Most  people  are  struck  by  her 
beauty — the  eyes  peculiarly  fine  and  very  expres- 
sive, dark  blue  in  colour,  the  sweetest  thing  that 
ever  was.  She  takes  great  notice  [six  weeks  old], 
laughs  at  her  Father's  whistling  most  prettily." 

Jan.  6,  1843.  "William  to  London — these  part- 
ings do  not  get  any  easier." 

To  the  Ladies'  Gallery  she  was  already  a 
frequent  visitor,  and  records  the  most  notable 
speeches.  Lord  Stanley's  in  the  Irish  debate.  One 
night  she  heard  Shell  the  Irish  orator — "his  style 
was  fluent  and  his  speech  brilliant,  but  ranting, 
and  the  voice  peculiarly  discordant  and  unpleas- 
ing.  Lord  Ashley^  on  the  White  Slave  Trade 
in  the  factories.^  She  mentions  Cardwell  and 
Buller  as  two  of  the  best  speakers.  She  listened 
for  the  first  time  to  a  speech  of  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington in  the  House  of  Lords  (March  7,  1843) 
and  also  mentions  hearing  Lord  Lyndhurst  and 
Lord  Brougham. 

But  she  keeps  all  her  most  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion for  her  husband's  speeches. 

A  note  occurs  in  the  "Recollections  of  an  Irish 
Judge,"  testifying  to  her  constant  presence  in  the 
Ladies'  Gallery. 

*  Afterwards  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
factory  Bill. 


Diaries  in  €atlp  ei^artieD  Life        57 

"In  the  House  one  day  I  noticed,  looking  at  the 
Ladies'  Gallery,  that  a  small  patch  of  the  dull  brass 
grill  shone  like  burnished  gold.  I  asked  an  attend- 
ant if  he  could  explain  it.  That,'  said  he,  'is 
the  place  where  Mrs.  Gladstone  sits  to  watch  the 
Grand  Old  Man  whenever  he  speaks — she  rests 
one  hand  on  the  grating,  and  the  friction,  as  you 
see,  has  worn  it  bright.' — Often  afterwards  I 
watched  the  eager  face  close  to  the  grille,  with  one 
hand  resting  lightly  on  the  grating."^ 

Their  life,  as  judged  from  the  Diaries  and  let- 
ters of  the  day,  in  spite  of  the  immense  number  of 
entertainments  given  or  attended  by  them,  still 
strikes  one  as  singularly  serious  and  strenuous — 
they  seemed  to  enter  no  part  of  life  light-heartedly. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  smile  over  the  following 
quite  serious  entry:  "Engaged  a  cook,  after  a  long 
conversation  on  religious  matters,  chiefly  between 
her  and  William/' 

Apparently  he  shared  very  much  more  in  those 
days  in  the  domestic  machinery  than  has  been  com- 
monly thought;  long  grave  talks  with  any  erring 
servant  or  any  of  the  weaker  brethren.  There 
are  pages  and  pages  of  his  letters  at  this  date  con- 
cerning an  ass,  who  travelled  with  them  as  per- 

^  Recollections  of  an  Irish  Judge,  by  M.  McD.  Bodkin. 


58  ^t0»  (^IaD0tone 

sonal  luggage,  the  doctors  having  ordered  asses' 
milk  for  the  reigning  baby. 

"A  dinner  at  Mr.  Samual  Rogers,  more  than  or- 
dinarily Clerical  in  character.  The  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  the  Bishop  of  London  and  Mrs. 
Blomfield,  Wordsworth  and  Tommy  Moore,  etc. 
Mr.  R.  whispered  to  me  that  he  was  much  op- 
pressed at  having  the  heads  of  the  Church  to  dine 
with  him.    I  never  saw  him  so  little  at  ease." 

March  17th.  "We  dined  at  the  Palace.  Clan- 
williams,  Lord  Rosebery,  Lord  Palmerston,  Lord 
Sydney,  who  took  me  in.  After  dinner  the  Queen 
asked  me  to  tell  her  about  William's  accident,  and 
questioned  me  as  to  the  children  and  Mary.  She 
has  more  expression  when  speaking  than  I  thought 
[she  was  twenty-three  at  the  time].  Really  en- 
joyed my  evening,  was  surprised  at  its  being  so  lit- 
tle formal.  Boy^  is  sitting  tc  Mr.  Richmond,  who 
finds  him  difficult." 

There  is  great  sorrow  over  the  guilt  of  a  house- 
maid, taken  up  for  stealing,  and  she  describes  mi- 
nutely what  she  went  through,  for  she  had  to  give 
evidence  at  Bow  Street  against  the  poor  girl;  "she 
pleaded  guilty  and  William  in  a  short  speech  rec- 
ommended her  to  mercy.    He  was  affected  and  so 

*  William  Henry,  born  June,  1840. 


Dfarieg  in  OBarlp  ^atrieD  Life        59 

was  I."  They  visited  her  afterwards  in  prison 
and  at  the  penitentiary. 

In  May,  1843,  the  Prime  Minister  offered  her 
husband  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet  as  President  of  the 
Board  of  Trade.  The  whole  crux  lay  in  Church 
questions;  both  Manning  and  Hope  were  con- 
sulted:— ■ 

''I  walked  with  him  in  Kensington  Gardens. 
He  was  much  oppressed — the  great  anxiety  to  act 
rightly.  He  asked  me  to  pray  for  him.  How 
thankful  I  am  to  be  joined  to  one  whose  mind  is 
purity  and  integrity  itself.  If  I  have  received  joy 
and  pride  in  Peel's  letter  to  him,  how  much  more 
do  I  feel  in  seeing  the  way  he  received  the  ofifer,  in 
witnessing  the  tenderness  of  conscience  which 
shrinks  from  any  idea  of  wordly  gain  lest  it  should 
conflict  with  higher  duties." 

May  15.  Manning  and  Hope  advised  his  going 
direct  to  Peel  to  set  forth  clearly  his  position. 
"He  has  accepted.  God  bless  and  prosper  him, — 
may  the  increase  of  responsibility  not  injure  his 
precious  health.  How  I  wish  he  could  have  a 
horse." 

At  the  end  of  July,  1843,  she  went  to  Hawarden 
with  her  sister  and  their  children,  for  the  Con- 
secration of  the  new  Church  Sir  Stephen  Glynne 
had   built   in   the    Parish.      Dr.    Hook   was   the 


60  g^r0»  aiaD0tone 

preacher  and  deeply  impressed  them  all — "such 
warmth  and  simplicity,  his  heart  overflowing  with 
goodness."  There  is  great  joy  over  the  engage- 
ment of  Henry  Glynne,  her  brother,  and  Lavinia 
Lyttelton,  then  staying  at  the  Castle.  This  made 
a  double  link  with  Hagley.  "The  two — Henry 
Glynne  and  Lavinia  Lyttelton — walked  together  in 
the  garden.  He  gave  her  a  rose — there  was  no 
need  for  any  words.  She  understood.  She  after- 
wards placed  the  rose  within  the  leaves  of  her 
prayer  book.  Nearly  a  century  has  passed  away; 
the  rose  still  lies  in  the  book,  treasured  by  her 
surviving  daughter.^ 

"Oh,  what  joy  and  thanksgiving  throughout  the 
house — even  little  Willy  and  Meriel  partaking  of 
the  unmixed  happiness,  though  unconscious  of  its 
real  meaning  [they  were  only  just  three  years 
old].  .  .  .  'Aunt  Lavinia  is  to  marry  Uncle 
Henry,'  their  dear  voices  announcing  the  tidings 
to  the  wondering  nurses." 

In  October,  after  seven  weeks  at  Fasque,  they 
travelled  outside  the  mail  coach  in  very  turbulent 
weather;  leaving  Perth  at  midnight,  they  crossed 
the  water  at  Queen's  Ferry  about  4  a.  m.  and  trav- 
elled the  two  following  days,  reaching  London 
in  the  evening. 

^  Gertrude  Lady  Penrhyn. 


Diane0  in  (JBarIp  ^arrieD  Life        61 

The  wedding  took  place  at  St.  George's,  Oc- 
tober, 1843.  "Henry  breakfasting  with  us,  much 
affected  at  first  seeing  me;  never  did  I  see  her  look 
so  beautiful  as  she  stood  at  the  Altar.  How  blessed 
to  feel  such  confidence  in  their  happiness,  a  hap- 
piness built  on  duty.  I  imagine  their  life  hand  in 
hand,  spurring  one  another  to  good  and  holy  acts 
— a  labour  of  love."  But  their  wedded  life  was  to 
be  brief  and  clouded.  Five  children  were  born; 
one  of  them,  the  much-wished-for  son  and  heir, 
died  while  the  joy  bells  were  ringing  for  his  birth. 
In  1850  the  lovely  mother  passed  away,  one  fort- 
night after  giving  birth  to  her  youngest  daughter. 
Lady  Lyttelton  gave  up  her  Court  appointment 
so  as  to  have  more  time  to  spend  at  Hawarden  Rec- 
tory with  the  motherless  little  ones. 

''November  3rd.  In  London  again.  A  most 
interesting  evening.  Archdeacon  Manning  slept 
here."  They  talked  till  midnight.  Dinners  with 
the  Duke  of  Wellington,  with  the  Cannings,  with 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Buccleugh.  She  com- 
ments on  the  great  interest  manifested  by  the 
Duke,  when  she  sat  next  him,  in  the  great  con- 
trasts of  life — in  the  poverty  and  misery  to  be 
found  in  London,  side  by  side  with  great  affluence. 

From  one  of  the  Ancient  Concerts,  she  men- 
tions with  pride  her  being  handed  out  by  the  Duke 


65  Q^r$*  <fi^lati0tone 

of  Wellington.  "He  insisted  on  escorting  us  down 
the  long  room  to  our  carriage.  I  was  fearful  lest 
he  should  catch  cold  in  the  draught.  He  merely 
placed  his  cocked  hat  upon  his  head.  How  char- 
acteristic, in  all  he  says  and  does,  is  the  honesty 
and    peculiar    straightforwardness    of    his    char- 


acter." 


Notes  on  the  Due  and  Duchesse  de  Nemours,  on 
Nicholas,  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  whom  they  met 
at  the  Palace — "A  noble-looking  personage,  the 
figure  so  striking,  tall  and  commanding,  his  man- 
ners civil  and  courteous,  friendly  without  losing 
his  dignity.  The  form  and  manner  struck  me 
more  than  the  face  itself,  yet  there  is  something 
peculiarly  awful  in  the  eyes  which  seem  to  look 
straight  through  one — it  was  interesting  to  watch 
him  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  together — the 
manner  in  which  the  Queen  took  his  arm,  and  his 
in  giving  it  to  her,  was  striking  and  graceful — the 
great  inequality  of  their  heights  would  never  have 
been  suspected,  such  was  the  grace  and  ease  with 
which  they  walked  off  together." 

The  Dowager  Lady  Lyttelton  told  her  how 
much  impressed  the  Emperor  was  by  the  footing 
between  the  Royal  children  and  their  parents. 

S.  L.  "How  happy  it  is  that  the  Queen  and 
Prince  have  succeeded  in  keeping  their  domestic 


Dfatieg  fn  OBarlp  ^arrfeD  JLffe        63 

relations  like  those  of  a  private  family,  and  could 
feel  real  family  happiness  and  comfort — C'est  la, 
Sire,  le  vrai  bonheur  de  la  vie." 

Emperor.  "Le  vrai  bonheur?  Le  seul  bonheur 
pour  nous  autres" 

S.  L.    "Non,  Sire,  pas  le  seul." 

Emperor.  "Ah,  Madame,  nous  n'en  avons  guere 
d'autre.    C'est  un  dur  metier  que  le  notre." 

Sir  Robert  Peel  spoke  to  her  most  feelingly  of 
the  beautiful  happiness  of  the  domestic  life  of  the 
Queen  and  the  Prince  Consort.  Brougham  was 
close  by  and  she  delighted  in  listening  to  the  talk 
between  him  and  Peel. 

"At  3>^  Willy  is  making  some  little  progress 
in  reading  and  can  manage  a  sentence  composed 
of  words  of  two  or  three  letters.  I  only  give  him 
lo  minutes  a  day.  He  likes  the  Sunday  lesson 
given  him  by  his  Father  and  reflects  as  he  lies  in 
his  little  bed.  One  night  he  told  us  he  had  been 
'talking  to  God.'  What  did  you  say  Willy?'  'I 
said,  "Listen  to  me." '  After  the  joy  of  his  birth- 
day party  they  found  him  crying  when  they  visited 
him  in  bed.    'I  feel  ungoodly,'  he  said." 

In  the  following  words  Mrs.  Gladstone  de- 
scribes the  emotion  of  his  friends  and  colleagues, 
when  her  husband,  early  in  1845,  resigned  on  the 


64  ^r0»  ($laD0tone 

Maynooth  Grant.  Only  a  few  years  had  elapsed 
since  he  had  published  his  treatise  on  "The  Church 
in  its  Relation  to  the  State."  Though  his  mind 
slowly  but  surely  had  reached  a  more  comprehen- 
sive view  of  what  was  sometimes  called  "the  na- 
tional endowment  of  Romanism,"  he  felt  bound 
to  place  himself  in  a  position  of  entire  freedom. 
"Mr.  Disraeli"  writes  Lord  Morley,  "was  re- 
ported as  having  said  that  with  his  resignation 
on  Maynooth  Mr.  Gladstone's  career  was  over." 
Many  years  later  he  describes  his  action  as  one 
that  would  be  regarded  "as  fastidious  and  fanciful, 
more  fit  for  a  dreamer  than  for  the  practical  pur- 
poses of  public  life."  The  majority  judged  it  as 
a  display  of  over-strained  moral  delicacy,  "an  act 
of  political  prudery."  To  his  adversaries  the  fla- 
vour of  the  event  was  ruined  by  the  absence  of  all 
bitterness  between  him  and  his  colleagues. 

Characteristically  he  would  not  actually  decide 
on  the  point  at  issue  till  he  was  detached  from  a 
position  which  might  be  supposed  to  bias  his  mind. 
When  he  found  himself  free  from  office,  he  had  no 
difficulty  in  voting  "with  emphasis"  in  support  of 
the  Bill.  It  would  be  rare  nowadays  to  find  a  ten- 
derness of  conscience  so  acute  as  to  cause  a  man 
to  resign  office  on  a  measure  with  which  he  was 
really  in  sympathy.     Don  Quixote  would  hardly 


Diaries  in  OBatlp  (^atcieD  Life        65 

have  been  a  comfortable  colleague  in  a  Cabinet 
Council. 

Macaulay's  memorable  words  are  worth  recall- 
ing at  this  moment. 

"When  I  remember  what  was  the  faith  of  Ed- 
ward III  and  of  Henry  VI,  of  Margaret  of  An- 
jou  and  Margaret  of  Richmond,  of  William  of 
Wykeham  and  Cardinal  Wolsey;  when  I  remem- 
ber what  we  have  taken  from  the  Roman  Cath- 
olics, King's  College,  Christchurch,  my  own  Trin- 
ity; and  when  I  look  at  the  miserable  Dotheboys' 
Hall  ^  we  have  given  them  in  exchange,  I  feel,  I 
must  own,  less  proud  than  I  could  wish  of  being 
a  Protestant  and  a  Cambridge  man." 

13.  Carlton  House  Terrace, 

29  January,  1845. 

"William  has  virtually  resigned  his  seat  in  the 
Cabinet,  on  the  burning  subject  of  Irish  educa- 
tion (the  Maynooth  Grant),  and  though  he  can- 
not be  one  of  the  originators  of  the  government 
scheme,  it  would  not  be  true  to  say  that  under  ex- 
isting circumstances  he  disapproves  of  their  meas- 
ure. Midst  the  deep  pain  he  feels  it  is  a  comfort 
to  him  to  reflect  that  the  best  understanding  ex- 
ists between  him  and  his  friends,  and,  as  ever,  he 
entertains  the  highest  opinion  of  them;  it  has  been 

*  Maynooth  College. 


66  ^rst»  (SlaDstone 

most  gratifying  to  see  the  warm  feelings  expressed, 
and  Peel  in  every  way  is  alive  to  William's  con- 
siderate conduct  throughout  this  painful  business. 
He  was  quite  open  and  unconstrained.  J.  S.  Le- 
fevre,  A.  Wood  Kinnaird,  were  here  before  ii, 
and  Uncle  Tom  ^  has  just  written  in  greatest  anx- 
iety to  enquire.  Canning  has  written  a  beautiful 
letter  quite  to  give  one  a  lump  in  one's  throat,  in- 
deed, I  have  been  living  all  day  with  glistening 
eyes.  That  kind  hearty  Mr.  Lefevre — he  was 
turned  quite  sick.  Then  William's  good  little  Sec- 
retary, Mr.  Northcote,^  who  could  not  help  break- 
ing down.     Lord  Dalhousie  also  much  affected." 

Mr.  Gladstone's  own  words  in  a  letter  to  Man- 
ning testify  to  its  having  been  no  easy  task  to  part 
from  his  own  colleagues:  "Do  you  know  that  daily 
intercourse  and  co-operation  with  men  upon  mat- 
ters of  great  anxiety  and  moment,  interweaves 
much  of  one's  being  with  theirs,  and  parting  with 
them,  leaving  them  under  pressure  of  work  and 
setting  oneself  free,  feels,  I  think,  much  like 
dying." 

In  January,  1845,  Mr.  Gladstone  went  down  to 
Windsor  to  resign.  He  wrote  to  Mrs.  Gladstone, 
describing  how  the  Queen  had  "brought  the  little 

*  Grenville. 

'Afterwards.  Sir  StaflFord,  and  Earl  of  Iddesleigh. 


Dfatie0  fn  (JBarIp  Q^arrieti  Life        Q7 

people  to  the  corridor — they  behaved  very  well, 
shook  hands  with  me  by  H.  M.'s  wish.  The  Prince 
of  Wales  has  a  very  good  countenance.  "After 
your  own  children,"  the  Queen  said,  "you  must 
think  them  dwarfs."  She  expressed  a  wish  to  him 
that  Mrs.  Gladstone  should  bring  Willy  and 
Agnes.     Accordingly: — 

"Lady  Lyttelton  received  us  and  we  took  off 
the  children's  things  before  going  in  to  H.  M. 
She  shook  hands  very  kindly  and  desired  me  to 
sit  down  by  her.  The  three  Royal  children  were 
with  her.  Princess  Alice,  a  nice  fat  baby,  thor- 
oughly good  humoured  and  benevolent.  Princess 
Royal,  about  a  head  shorter  than  Willy — very  en- 
gaging, not  exactly  pretty  but  like  the  Queen  and 
Prince  Albert.  The  Prince  of  Wales  small  and 
the  head  not  striking  me  as  well  shaped,  his  long 
trousers,  tied  below  the  ankles  and  very  full,  most 
unbecoming.  His  manners  very  dear  and  not  shy 
— they  are  evidently  quite  unspoilt  and  I  observed 
the  Queen  made  them  obey  her.  Princess  Royal 
and  Willy  kissed  each  other,  and  she  patronized 
little  Agnes,  who  stood  by  her  and  the  Prince, 
quite  at  home  and  nearly  as  tall  as  the  Prince,  so 
much  so  as  to  make  the  Queen  observe — 'The 
Prince  is  the  tallest  of  the  two'  [he  was  a  year 
older].    I  was  much  relieved  at  my  children  being 


so  good  and  doing  no  harm.  The  Queen  observed, 
'What  care  Willy  takes  of  Agnes!'  and  admired 
his  hair  and  his  width.  Agnes's  independence 
amused  her  and  she  was  occasionally  in  fits  of 
laughter  at  them.  Before  leaving  the  Queen  kissed 
both  my  children." 

Hagley.  Agnes  at  4,  reads  easy  stories;  both 
have  a  good  ear  for  music.  ...  A  month's  dissipa- 
tion at  Brighton  made  Willy  too  wild,  but  he  is 
sweet-tempered  and  tractable,  though  volatile  and 
has  a  struggle  to  fix  his  attention." 

At  four  Willy  begins  to  ride  on  a  real  saddle, 
and  a  little  later,  "sitting  capitally,  he  trotted,  only 
on  a  horse-cloth." 

One  more  description,  three  years  later,  may 
perhaps  be  quoted. 

January  30,  1846.  "Dined  at  the  Palace.  The 
Queen  ill-dressed.  Very  kind  to  us,  talking  much 
of  Mary's  children  and  my  own,  and  for  some  time 
to  William.  The  Queen  has  ordered  me  to  bring 
my  children  to  her  on  Saturday.  I  accordingly 
took  the  four,  Willy,  Agnes,  Stephy,  and  Jessie. 
Her  Majesty  came  in  with  her  four  and  was  very 
nice  and  kind.  Princess  Royal,  a  nice  quick  thing; 
not  so  much  difference  in  the  heights  as  last  time. 
Prince  of  Wales  has  a  striking  countenance,  Alfred 


'-'i^^l 

o 

r,l 

irHH 

r> 

C-l 

t— 1 

2i 

> 

CC 

M 

:si 

> 

y 


y.     ~ 


_;    s 


o 


Diaries  in  (JBatIp  ^arrieD  Life        69 

very  pretty,  all  have  such  fat  white  necks.  Prince 
Alfred  is  a  year  and  a  half  old.  Stephy  head  and 
shoulder  taller  at  one  year  and  ten  months.  The 
Queen  commented  on  Agnes'  looks,  'I  had  not 
heard  about  her  being  so  very  pretty.'  Thought 
Willy  pale  and  Stephen  gigantic,  baby  fat  and  like 
her  father.  She  took  great  notice  of  them  all, 
kissed  Agnes,  and  gave  them  a  huge  white  lamb 
between  them  all,  which  the  Royal  Children  and 
ours  played  with  very  happily  during  their  visit. 
The  Queen  spoke  of  their  goodness  and  asked  if 
they  were  always  so  good." 

March,  1847.  "Agnes  at  four  and  a  half  may 
be  led  by  a  silken  thread,  and  reads  easy  lessons 
with  little  teaching,  and  is  picking  up  French 
quickly,  no  bump  for  figures." 

In  the  autumn  of  1847,  Agnes,  five  years  old, 
was  dangerously  ill  at  Fasque  and  when  prayed 
for  at  a  Service  in  the  Chapel  there  came  a  change 
for  the  better.  Willy,  walking  with  his  Father. 
"How  lucky  it  was  a  Saint's  Day,  for  you  see 
Agnes  is  not  grand  enough  to  have  a  Service  for 
herself,  and  if  she  had  not  been  prayed  for  she 
might  have  died." 

1847.  "Arrived  at  Belvoir  Castle,  met  the  Sid- 
ney Herberts,  Lord  Clive,  Bishops  of  Oxford 
and  Lincoln,  Lord  Forrester,  the  three  sons  of  the 


70  0^t0»  (Slati0tone 

house  and  many  more  of  the  family.  Greatly 
struck  by  the  grandeur  of  the  situation — dined 
from  twenty  to  forty  each  day.  Nothing  could  ex- 
ceed the  Duke's  kindness  and  hospitality.  Fasci- 
nated by  Mrs.  Herbert,  so  pretty  and  taking — shd 
seems  most  anxious  to  do  what  is  right  and  was 
full  of  the  new  Church  at  Wilton,  the  one  which 
is  to  be  consecrated  to-morrow." 

1 841.  "Dined  at  Sir  R.  Peel's — an  interesting 
occasion — anxiety  and  sorrow  sat  upon  many  of  the 
countenances  assembled.  There  stood  Guizot, 
with  that  piercing  eye  of  fire,  his  whole  appear- 
ance eagle-like,  his  countenance  beaming  with 
sagacity  and  great  intellect — in  earnest  conversa- 
tion with  Peel,  full  of  gesture  and  now  and  then 
his  voice  raised,  as  if  bursting  with  feeling  which 
would  out.  There  were  the  poor  Jarnacs,  with 
full  marks  of  sorrow  for  their  King  and  Queen.* 
The  Princess  Lieven,  the  Austrian  Ambassador, 
harassed  afresh  with  the  increasing  troubles  in 
Austria,  which  so  afflicted  his  wife  as  to  make  it 
impossible  for  her  to  be  present.  The  party  was 
relieved  by  Lord  and  Lady  Aberdeen,  Lord  and 
Lady  Mahon.  I  had  some  talk  with  Madame  Jar- 
nac.  Her  account  of  the  poor  Queen  of  France 
especially  was  touching;  of  the  dangers  and  trials 

*  Revolution  of  1848. 


Diaries  in  (BMp  Q^artieD  Life        71 

connected  with  their  flight,  of  the  sad  depriva- 
tions to  which  they  were  subject,  the  terror  of  the 
poor  Queen  about  her  husband  ^  and  then  her  chil- 
dren. .  .  .  Sir  Robert  Peel  joined  in  our  conver- 
sation, he  view^s  the  state  of  Europe  with  much 
alarm.  He  had  received  private  information  re- 
specting the  Prince  of  Prussia  (now  at  Bunsen's) 
who  is  said  to  have  broken  his  sword  and  laid  it, 
with  his  spurs,  at  the  feet  of  the  King  of  Prussia. 

"Lady  Peel  looks  wonderfully  young  and 
pretty." 

Dining  with  the  Prime  Minister,  the  conversa- 
tion turned  on  "subjects  which  especially  brought 
out  feeling — his  children  and  their  education.  He 
enlarged  on  the  satisfaction  of  having  no  perma- 
nent Governess,  liked  his  girls  to  travel  with  him, 
said  it  enlarged  their  minds,  and  much  more — 
showing  that  amidst  his  great  cares  the  domestic 
element  is  deep  in  his  heart." 

January,  1849.  "Stephy  at  five  and  a  half  is  a 
curious  child.  I  feel  there  is  much  to  come  out  of 
him  and  he  will  not  be  commonplace.  Feelings 
warm,  kindness  and  what  he  may  think  unkind- 
ness  sink  very  deep.  There  is  much  in  him  for 
good  or  for  evil." 

Fasque,  1849.    "Willy  writes  to  Charles,  burst- 

*  Louis  Philippe. 


72  ^x%.  aiaD0tone 

ing  with  happiness — tells  how  he  has  a  hundred 
amusements  and  occupations.  .  .  .  He  goes  daily 
now  to  his  Father  for  his  Latin  lesson.  His  Father 
tells  me  his  choice  of  language  is  remarkable;  but 
he  is  not  one  who  makes  the  most  of  himself.  I 
sometimes  fear  he  will  do  himself  injustice.  He 
reads  the  Bible  to  blind  Peter  on  Sunday  eve- 
nings— dear  boy  he  goes  to  school  (93^)  next 
month.    May  God  keep  him  safe." 

His  parents  were  much  pleased  a  few  years  later 
when,  at  the  age  of  17,  Willy  was  chosen  by  the 
Queen  to  accompany  the  Prince  of  Wales  on  his 
first  tour  abroad.  The  friendship  was  continued 
at  Christchurch. 

In  the  Summer  of  1849,  Mr.  Gladstone  at  the 
instigation  of  his  wife,  left  England  and  travelled 
across  Europe  in  hope  of  discovering  and  saving 
a  lady  who  had  left  her  husband.  The  husband 
was  one  of  his  most  trusted  friends  and  colleagues, 
while  the  wife  was  very  dear  to  Mrs.  Gladstone. 
This  quixotic  mission  was  undertaken  at  the  ear- 
nest wish  of  the  husband,  and  both  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gladstone  would  leave  no  stone  unturned  in  bring- 
ing about  a  reconciliation  between  the  two.  The 
story  is  told  by  Lord  Morley  in  Vol.  I  of  his  Biog- 
raphy of  Mr.  Gladstone.^  It  was  part  of  the  work 
*p.  364. 


Diatieg  in  OBatlp  Q^artieD  Life        73 

of  rescue  that  ever  lay  so  close  to  their  hearts: 
it  was  characteristic  of  both  that  rich  or  poor,  hum- 
ble or  exalted,  the  appeal  was  never  made  in  vain. 
Mrs.  Gladstone's  notes  on  their  fourth  child, 
Jessy,  show  her,  in  her  first  two  years,  to  have 
been  quicker  and  more  eager  and  passionately  lov- 
ing than  the  elder  ones.  But  gradually  a  cloud 
seemed  to  settle  upon  this  interesting  child  and  she 
grew  quiet  and  drowsy,  her  eyes  grave  and  wist- 
ful. '^Dormouse,"  as  someone  called  her  at  that 
time.  "At  four  years  old  she  is  very  picturesque, 
with  her  curly  hair  and  so  pretty  in  her  Rubens 
hat,  peculiarly  loving,  watching  me  like  a  cat  and 
taking  tender  care  of  me.  Blessed  child,  I  can  see 
her  now,  watching  my  every  movement  for  the 
chance  of  going  with  me.  At  Hagley,  when  she 
was  so  unwell  and  it  hurt  her  to  walk,  she  would 
follow  me,  sweet  lamb,  to  my  room  and  sit  happy 
in  the  arm-chair,  living  as  it  were  on  a  word  or 
look  of  mine.  I  can  hear  her  saying,  'Dear  sweet 
Mammy,  you  look  so  kind  at  me.'  She  was  a 
darling  baby.  With  what  double  pleasure,  during 
her  Father's  absence,  did  I  gaze  at  her,  tracing  his 
image  in  her  face — often  it  came  across  me  that 
there  would  be  a  solidity  of  character  about  my 
Jessy  and  there  was  such  earnestness  in  the  large 
serious  eyes." 


74  ^r0»  eiaDstone 

For  the  first  ten  years  all  had  gone  radiantly 
with  both  families  and  nothing  but  ephemeral  anx- 
ieties came  their  way.  It  was  early  in  1850,  that 
Death  first  cast  its  shadow  over  the  Gladstone 
household  and  their  beloved  child,  Catherine 
Jessy,  developed  meningitis  at  the  age  of  four  and 
a  half  years.  It  has  been  related  that  for  some 
hours  after  her  death  (April,  1850),  her  Father 
was  in  a  state  of  such  violent  grief  as  almost  to 
frighten  those  around  him. 

Suddenly  his  sense  of  duty  got  the  upper  hand. 
Thenceforward  he  was  calm,  but  under  the  stress 
of  deep  emotion,  he  put  on  paper  a  record  of  the 
little  life;  it  might  rank  with  the  immortal  de- 
scription written  by  De  Quincey  when  death  first 
touched  his  household. 

But  Mrs.  Gladstone's  own  pathetic  words  can 
be  quoted  here:  "I  dread  lest  the  solemn  remem- 
brance of  her  loved  face  after  death  should  in  any 
way  fade,  so  holy,  so  heavenly  it  was.  My  loved 
child — my  own  Jessy,  to  think  that  the  quiet  coun- 
tenance in  such  deep  repose,  is  the  same  which  a 
few  hours  ago  was  racked  with  pain.  The  hair 
lay  curling  on  the  marble  forehead,  the  long  dark 
lashes  fringing  her  cheek,  the  little  hands  folded 
across  one  another,  roses  and  lilies  of  the  valley 


Diarie$  in  (IBatlp  a^attieD  Life        75 

about  her.  I  could  not  describe  the  sublimity  of 
her  expression." 

And  then  she  copies  out  the  closing  words  of  her 
husband's  little  memoir: — 

"The  countenance  was  holy,  it  was  heavenly — 
it  blessed  the  eyes  that  saw  it.  It  was  a  voiceless 
yet  speaking  expression  and  its  meaning  was  this 
— *I  have  seen  the  things  that  ye  know  not  of:  I 
have  tasted  of  the  Eternal  Peace.  I  have  seen  my 
Lord  and  my  God,  and  I  am  with  Him  for  ever.' 

"It  bore  witness  to  the  promise,  'He  shall  gather 
the  lambs  within  His  arm.  He  shall  carry  them 
in  His  bosom.' 

"It  answered  the  prayer  which  during  her  rest- 
lessness and  pain  so  often  rose  instinctively  to  our. 
lips. 

"Jesu  bone,  bone  Jesu,  Pastor  ovium,  Pastor 
agnorum,  miserere."  ^ 

^  Jesu    holy,    holy  Jesu.     Shepherd  of   the   sheep,    Shepherd  of  the 
lambs,  have  mercy  upon  us. 


CHAPTER  IV 

LETTERS  FROM  HER 

MRS.  GLADSTONE  had  a  well-earned 
reputation  for  making  bricks  without 
straw.  Certainly  her  letters,  written 
anywhere,  any  time,  anyhow  with  totally  in- 
adequate materials,  were  miracles  of  expression. 
She  wrote  with  facility  and  felicity,  and  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  rapid  and  expressive  pen.  To  each  of 
her  daughters  she  wrote  several  thousand  letters, 
her  sons  have  as  great  a  number,  and  many  of  her 
nieces  and  friends  could  say  the  same.  In  three 
words  she  gave  a  living  picture — not  so  much  facts, 
perhaps,  as  atmosphere.  Nothing  escaped  her 
quick  eye.  She  touched  ofiP  with  a  masterly  hand, 
scenes,  people,  talks.  To-day  she  would  be  classed 
as  a  first-rate  Impressionist.  Whenever  absent 
from  her,  so  long  as  one  had  the  newspapers  for 
facts  and  her  letters  for  comments  and  atmosphere, 
one  really  seemed  to  know  more,  to  be  more  au  fait 
than  even  when  with  her.  And  in  spite  of  an  ellip- 
tical and  elusive  style,  apart  from  the  Glynnese 
slang,  her  English  and  her  grammar  were  pure. 

76 


Letters  from  5)er  77 

A  year  or  two  ago  her  daughter  made  an  at- 
tempt to  go  through  her  own  letters  from  her 
Mother.  In  the  midst  of  this  task  she  dashed  off 
an  account  of  it  to  Lady  Frederick  Cavendish: 

Of  her  own  and  her  sister's  children — hers  all 
but  in  name — one  only  inherits  much  of  Catherine 
Gladstone's  nature,  her  largeness  of  heart,  her  di- 
vine compassion,  her  sanguine  temperament,  her 
raciness  of  speech,  her  impetuosity,  her  disregard 
of  appearances — and  this  was  Lucy,  Lady  Fred- 
erick Cavendish.  It  may  throw  some  light  on  the 
subject  to  give  this  letter  in  extenso: 

"I  am  looking  over  her  letters,  a  really  appall- 
ing job  as  there  are  thousands,  and  you  better, 
than  anyone,  know  the  rags  and  tatters  they  are 
written  on,  the  atrocious  pens,  the  smudges  and 
blots,  no  stops  and  the  'i's  never  dotted,  the  't's 
never  crossed;  one  requires  a  daily  journal  of  the 
House  of  Commons'  doings  and  another  of  fami- 
lies— yours,  ours.  Stepneys,  Talbots,  Gladstones, 
Dumaresques,  Farquhars,  Cavendishs,  and  all  to 
whom  she  was  Mother,  friend,  angel.  And  yet 
another  volume  of  benevolent  doings. 

"The  frequent  lack  of  nominative  cases,  the  allu- 
sions, the  hints,  the  flying  remarks,  and  sketches 
and  pen-pictures,  and  comparisons  and  suggestions 


78  ^t$.  <S>laD0tone 

and  descriptions,  enigmatic,  elliptic,  elusive,  her 
finger  literally  on  the  pulse  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons— far  more  brilliant  even  than  I  had  remem- 
bered, but  buried  in  yards  and  yards  of  plans,  ac- 
counts, domestic  details,  like  brilliant  fragments 
dug  up  in  ancient  Greece  or  Rome.  They  literally 
palpitate  with  life,  they  catch  the  very  breath  of 
the  moment,  they  are  essentially  written  for  that 
moment  only;  they  require  the  people,  the  tenden- 
cies, the  thoughts,  the  feelings,  the  enthusiasms, 
the  emotions,  the  thrills  of  that  moment — the  spici- 
ness  depends  on  the  homeliness  or  intimacy  of  the 
touch,  the  humour  of  the  happenings,  the  expres- 
sions— Glynnese,  Boffin,^  or  medical!  The  aroma 
vanishes  if  brought  into  the  public  eye. 

"One  of  the  most  amazing  things  is  how  he  bore 
it,  the  endless  chars  ^  and  jobs  she  put  on  him  for 
charity  or  kindness,  the  manoeuvres  behind  his 
back,  the  extraordinary  dodges  to  smooth  his  path 
or  oil  his  wheels,  or  cocker  up  his  health,  the  as- 
tonishing intricacy  of  her  arrangements,  the  dove- 
tailing, and  never  ceasing  attempts  to  fit  in  things 
which  couldn't  and  wouldn't  fit!  The  never  los- 
ing a  chance  or  an  opportunity  of  helping  some- 
body, however  remote  or  far-fetched,  the  tucking 

*  See  "Our  Mutual  Friend."     "In  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Boffin  we 
had  better  drop  the  subject." 
*"Odd  jobs  done  for  others  but  not  for  him."— Glynnese  Glossary. 


Letters  (torn  l^er  70 

in  or  tucking  up  of  incongruous  people,  so  long 
as  they  were  troubled  or  in  difficulties  of  sorts. 

"  'Could  you  order  some  tooth-brushes  and 
brushes  cheap  for  the  Orphanage?'  she  wrote  to 
him.  'Have  you  remembered  to  peep  in  on  the 
Miss  D.'s?'  *  Only  open  the  Boudoir  door  and  you 
will  find  them.'  Did  you  manage  the  flowers  (or 
grapes)  for  Mrs.  Bagshawe?  She  lives  quite  near 
Portland  Place.'  ,  .  .  *If  you  have  time,  please 
bring  down  a  little  present  for  my  3-year-old  God- 
child [a  curate's  baby],  there  are  beautiful  Bible 
prints  at  the  Sanctuary,  Westminster,  and  also  we 
want  a  common  easel  from  the  same  place, 
5s.  to  Ve,  to  hold  the  big  maps  for  the  boys.' 

"Why  didn't  it  drive  him  wild,  with  the  direct 
and  'radiant  simplicity'  of  his  character?  No 
amount  of  experience  made  him  suspicious.  Two 
things  saved  the  situation  and  rendered  him  im- 
pervious to  her  pranks — his  sense  of  humour  and 
his  heart  of  gold.  Still  it  is  bewildering — she 
lived  a  hundred  lives  at  one  go. 

"But  what  strikes  me  afresh  and  anew  is  how 
marvellously,  miraculously,  you  jumped  with  her, 
crept  with  her,  flew  with  her.  Whatever  her  pace, 
you  kept  up;  whatever  she  needed,  there  you  were, 

*Two  very  poor  Italian  ladies  secreted  in  Downing  Street,  ostensi- 
bly as  Caretakers. 


80  air$»  aiaD$tone 

living  so  to  speak,  in  her  pocket,  always  ready  to 
fall  in  with  her  and  dove-tail,  and  swap  butlers, 
and  supply  meals,  beds,  cooks,  or  carriages,  at  a 
moment's  notice.  Was  ever  a  miraculous  Aunt  so 
blessed  with  a  miraculous  niece — and  Freddy,  who 
might  have  been  driven  crazy,  loved  it,  revelled  in 
it,  enjoyed  it  to  the  hilt.  Can't  you  see  his  wink 
and  hers?  Can't  you  hear  his  laughter  as  he 
writhed  with  amusement  over  her  description  of 
a  scene  at  Falconhurst  when  she  would  call  the 
tame  little  wood,  the  jungle?  Even  this  hurried 
little  scrawl  (enclosed)  bubbles  over  with  char- 
acteristic touches — the  sudden  arrival  at  your 
house,  the  scrambled  hiding  of  the  bulk  of  his  let- 
ters, the  blank  for  the  Secretary's  name,  the  little 
bleat  after  her  absent  lamb  (ten  months  after  our 
wedding),  the  thrilling  scene  at  Euston  (no  one 
out  of  Office  nowadays  could  arouse  that  frantic 
enthusiasm)." 

The  following  letter  was  written  by  one  of  her 
sons,  who  had  attempted  to  tackle  his  own  "Li- 
brary of  Letters"  from  her: 

*'A11  so  very  personal,  some  so  sacred,  and  much 
only  likely  to  interest  nears  and  dears.  The  in- 
dustry in  writing  is  as  extraordinary  as  the  depth 
of  love.    It  has  truly  been  a  sacred  privilege,  not 


Letters  from  ©er  81 

short  of  a  revelation,  to  read  this  library  of  letters 
again,  throwing  such  intense  light  of  Truth  and 
Love  shed  by  this  Mother  of  mothers  on  my  poor 
life.  Quite  a  new  revelation  in  addition  to  past 
influences.  But  the  personal  character,  the  watch- 
ful care  and  deep  devotion,  as  expressed  in  words, 
are  only  meant  for  us. 

"But  many  things  astonish  me — little  and  great. 
Endless  instances  of  how  thoughtful,  clear  and 
exact  she  was  about  making  plans  often  under  very 
intricate  and  varying  circumstances.  So  range  in 
her  thoughtfulness,  so  business-like  in  her  schemes, 
so  penetrating  her  sympathy  and  insight;  so  keen 
for  moral  growth  in  her  Love.  .  .  .  All  silent  now 
and  far  removed.  Yet  that  Great  Heart  beats 
more  than  ever  now." 

But  there  is  one  short  set  of  letters  written  to  her 
husband  on  the  proposed  resignation  of  the  Lead- 
ership, which  strikes  a  different  note. 

In  January,  1875,  she  was  at  Hawarden  when 
her  husband  wrote  to  tell  her  that  the  time  of  his 
formal  resignation  of  the  Leadership  of  the  Lib- 
eral Party  was  at  hand.  It  was  nine  months  after 
the  General  Election  of  1874,  when  the  trump  card 
of  his  Address  was  the  offer,  for  the  first  time  in 
its  history,  to  do  away  altogether  with  the  Income 


S2  ^r0»  (^laD0tone 

Tax.  His  Government  had  accomplished  mighty 
things.  In  Ireland  the  burden  of  a  dominant 
Protestant  Church  riding  rough-shod  over  a  Ro- 
man Catholic  country,  had  been  removed/  Free 
National  Education  had  been  given  to  Great  Brit- 
ain.^ Purchase  in  the  Army  had  been  abolished 
(1873).  Arbitration  as  a  governing  principle  in 
disputed  International  Questions,  had  been  estab- 
lished.^ Independence  and  secrecy  in  voting  had 
been  ensured.^  Mr.  Gladstone  had  paid  twenty- 
six  millions  off  the  National  Debt.  He  left  a  sur- 
plus of  5,000,000  to  his  successors.  He  looked  for- 
w^ard,  if  returned  to  power,  to  abolishing  the  In- 
come Tax.  Such  performance  and  promise,  sure- 
ly, as  has  been  seldom  marshalled  before  a  coun- 
try. But  the  country  was  sick  and  tired  of  econ- 
omy and  reform.  The  General  Election  gave  a 
majority  of  fifty  to  his  opponents. 

The  deep  desire  of  his  heart  for  respite  from 
controversy,  as  a  preparation  for  the  grave,  was, 
without  any  doubt,  the  leading  motive  of  his  resig- 
nation at  the  comparatively  early  age  of  sixty-five. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  had  left  London  at  the  crisis 
and  had  gone  to  Hagley  to  nurse  a  dearly  loved 

*  Disestablishment  and  disendowment  of  the  Irish  Church. 
^  Mr.  Forster's  Education  Act. 
'Alabama  Claims,   1873. 
*The  Ballot  Act. 


Letter0  from  J^er  83 

niece.     The  following  letters,  or  portions  of  let- 
ters, were  written  to  him  by  her  in  January,  1875: 

ON   MR.   GLADSTONE'S   RESIGNATION   OF 

LEADERSHIP 

January   1875. 

"I  know  full  well  your  whole  soul  is  bent  upon 
doing  right.  You  would  go  to  the  death  in  a  right- 
eous cause!  Who  could  hold  you  when  the  battle 
cry  sounded?  I  expressed  myself  so  badly  in  the 
hurry  of  parting — alas  it  seemed  to  you  I  was 
going  against  you,  and  that  my  judgment  was 
formed!  Perhaps  from  the  very  fact  of  my  long- 
ing to  see  you  rest  and  to  acquiesce  in  all  your 
wishes,  I  felt  it  the  greater  duty  to  look  well  on  all 
sides,  and  remember  there  are  those  who  can  speak 
more  frankly  to  me  than  to  you,  and  who  desire 
your  honourable  course  of  action.  Is  there  not 
something  to  be  said  against  your  own  point,  which 
strengthens  their  argument  in  this  shape?  Great 
Church  questions  may  arise  when  your  power  and 
influence  would  be  invaluable.  Would  you  have 
the  same  power  by  a  sudden  rush  to  fight  after  put- 
ting the  reins  upon  others?  The  Party  would 
naturally  be  at  sea.  Is  there  no  medium  course? 
What  necessity  would  there  be  for  constant  at- 
tendance?   Who  would  expect  it?    Could  you  not 


84  g^r0»  (DIaD0tone 

take  it  quite  easily?  Would  not  the  patience  and 
calmness  and  modesty  of  your  attitude  speak,  not 
only  to  the  House  of  Commons,  but  to  the  whole 
country?  No  doubt  there  is  a  feeling  that  you  only 
care  about  fights  now — tJiat  would  take  away  this 
idea!  to  see  you  so  patient,  so  good,  sacrificing  your 
own  wishes  and  only  helping  others,  accepting  the 
position  and  meeting  it.  May  it  not  be  right?  Is 
not  the  position  so  to  speak  forced  upon  you?  If 
you  had  any  organic  illness  which  made  it  wrong 
for  you  to  expose  your  precious  life,  it  would  be 
different.  Dr.  Clark  spoke  to  me  last  year  quite 
in  an  opposite  sense.  These  little  ailments  are 
just  safety  valves.  Some  have  giddiness  in  the 
head,  or  palpitations  of  the  heart,  and  no  warning 
but  the  danger;  in  your  ailment,  you  have  time  to 
pull  up  and  get  right.  You  say  if  you  take  the  lead 
you  are  there  for  ever.  Why  who  would  say  a 
word  against  your  giving  up,  if  health  really  de- 
manded it?  I  was  saying  to  Edward  Talbot  how 
you  yearned  for  rest  from  strife,  and  I  suggested 
Hartington  as  Leader.  He  said,  'I,  at  all  events, 
am  a  fair  and  impartial  person  as  to  politics,  and 
knowing  how  Mr.  G.  might  have  to  do  things  for 
conciliation  that  I  might  disapprove,  I  still  feel 
his  importance  to  the  country  as  Leader  so  strongly 
that  I  hope  he  will  not  shrink.'    He  thought  many 


Letter0  from  5)et  85 

people  would  explain  your  resigning  as  a  religious 
mania,  and  that  this  would  undermine  your  in- 
fluence, whilst  by  proving  you  can  calmly  attend 
to  political  business  in  Opposition,  you  would 
double  your  influence  when  needed. 

I  hope  I  have  not  troubled  you  with  my  twaddle, 
at  all  events  you  may  feel  that  I  write  with  the 
one  object  that  you  may  be  guided  aright  to  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  your  fellow  creatures 
— that  your  acquiescing  would  be  unselfish  to  the 
highest  degree — I  know  that  well.  At  all  events 
you  will  forgive  me.  Do  not  write  about  it  till 
you  have  seen  Lord  Granville  again;  it  only  takes 
out  of  you,  which  is  the  last  thing  I  wish. 

"Your  loving 
"C.  G." 

January  12.   1875. 

"First  it  is  a  great  deal  too  much  to  say  that 
you  and  I  take  different  views  of  this  important 
question  of  the  Leadership!  it  could  not  be  so, 
as  I  had  by  no  means  made  up  my  own  mind.  But 
I  did  consider  it  my  duty  to  lay  before  you  the 
drawbacks  and  that  you  should  receive  from  me 
the  unbiassed  opinion  of  what  might  be  thought, 
and  so  weigh  the  matter.  Perhaps  I  am  too  sen- 
sitive in  the  feeling  of  anything  like  running  away, 
when  the  road  is  dark  and  hopeless.     I  believe 


(though  perhaps  I  should  fail)  that  I  have  looked 
upon  your  career  very  much  as  that  of  a  General 
in  a  dangerous  battle,  w^hether  winning  or  losing. 
However,  my  poor  opinion  is  so  little  worth  hav- 
ing, perhaps  I  need  not  have  said  anything,  but  I 
like  you  to  know  that  we  do  not  really  differ,  more 
than  from  the  great  desire,  the  trembling  desire 
you  should  do  right;  and  thus  I  wished  to  act  as 
a  kind  of  drag  on  so  important  a  step.  God  will 
bless  and  help  you  as  He  has  done  in  mighty  de- 
cisions, and  be  what  it  may  I  am  content. 

"In  the  meantime  I  delight  in  your  report  of 
Clark's  opinion.  Killing  your  saying  he  does  not 
take  so  rosy  a  view  of  the  trouble  as  I  do.  All  I 
mean  is  that  there  could  not  be  a  safer  vent,  and 
as  you  seldom  rest  your  dear  head,  I  am  patient 
over  this  vent,  and  thank  God  for  Clark's  word 
^'Excellent/'  Am  I  not  borne  out  that  it  would  be 
a  quiz  ^  for  you  to  have  pleaded  health  as  a  rea- 
son? And  the  thing  I  really  desire  ever5rwhere,  is 
less  high  pressure,  more  calmness  in  work,  and 
more  allowance  of  relaxation." 

January,  1875. 

"What  a  jolly  letter!  Quite  human.  So  dear  of 
you  to  give  me  such  a  treat!  Yesterday's  letter 
will  show  you  I  am  'perfectly  content.'    You  did 

^  Glynnese  Glossary. 


Catherine  Gladstone 
1856 

From  a  portrait  by  F.  R.  Say  at  Hawarden 


iLetter0  from  l^er  S7 

not  see  that  it  was  rather  as  the  martyr  I  took  up 
the  argument.  It  was  not,  I  think,  ambition,  ex- 
cept in  tlie  best  sense  of  the  word.  The  Spencers 
want  us  to  go  to  Althorp  on  the  25th.  That  would 
be  flesh  ;^  if  on  our  way  to  London  it  might  be 
different." 

It  was  not  the  first  time  or  the  last,  that  a  man 
not  yet  old  who  had  been  Prime  Minister,  re- 
signed the  Leadership  for  the  shades  of  Opposi- 
tion, to  return  to  it  a  few  years  later  at  a  great 
crisis.  Mr.  Gladstone  resigned  in  January,  1875, 
and  two  years  had  barely  elapsed  before  the  great 
crisis  (Eastern  Que&tion)  called  him  back.  In 
five  years  he  was  again  Prime  Minister.  Mr.  Bal- 
four resigned  in  191 1,  at  the  age  of  sixty-four,  also 
while  in  Opposition.  A  great  crisis  called  him 
back,  and  he  took  office  under  Mr.  Asquith  in  191 5. 

Some  specimens  may  be  selected  from  her  more 
normal  letters — letters  written  under  more  favour- 
able circumstances — such  as  a  well-appointed 
writing  table,  a  good  quill — she  never  used  a  steel 
pen, — some  unwonted  leisure,  and  circumstances 
that  appealed  to  her  heart.    The  Royal  visits,  of 

*  "An  exceedingly  rare  idiom,  the  use  of  which  is  perhaps  confined 
to  Mrs.  Gladstone.  It  refers  to  money  payments  and  means  actual 
hard  money  out  of  pocket,  and  is  said  to  be  an  allusion,  more  poetic 
than  precise,  to  the  story  of  Shylock." — Glynnese  Glossary. 


S8  ^t$*  (^laD^tone 

which  there  are  several  accounts,  fulfilled  these 
conditions  perhaps  best  of  all,  and  such  letters  are 
of  more  general  interest  than  some  of  those  writ- 
ten from  other  stately  homes. 

It  has  already  been  said  that  Mrs.  Gladstone 
and  Lady  Lyttleton  when  apart  never  allowed  one 
day  to  pass  without  writing  to  each  other.  But 
these  letters  are  specially  unquotable,  so  intimate, 
often  so  sacred,  so  ephemeral  they  are. 

Taken  at  random  from  a  heap  of  old  letters  at 
Hagley,  one  specimen,  however,  may  be  quoted 
on  account  of  its  historical  value. 

CATHERINE  TO  MARY 

March  1854. 

My  Love — Our  anxiety  is  at  an  end  for  the  pres- 
ent, but  oh,  how  it  wears  one  out!  .  .  .  They  say 
it  is  all  her  doing.  Lord  John  is  firm  one  moment, 
then  he  goes  home  and  she  sits  upon  him — the 
whole  thing  being  then  set  to  wrongs  again.  How- 
ever, as  you  will  see,  he  did  end  by  giving  in,  and 
the  Reform  Bill  is  dropped.  We  were  with  Lady 
John  in  the  House.  Poor  Lord  John  did  well  but 
he  broke  down  at  last  and  wept  so  as  not  to  be 
able  to  rally.  They  cheered  and  cheered,  but  still 
his  voice  was  entrecoupe,  and  he  never  recovered. 
Upstairs  Lady  John  wept,  too,  and  I  leave  it  to 
your  imagination  to  fancy  the  scene.  Well  I  had  to 


Letters  (torn  \^tt  89 

go  alone  *  to  the  Queen,  very  small  and  very  pleas- 
ant, but  I  have  no  time  to  write  the  account  I 
should  wish.  As  there  were  no  big  wigs  I  had  a 
nice  conversation  with  the  Queen.^  The  points 
most  interesting  for  you  are  these — "How  well 
your  sister  looks,  and  Albert,  he  is  quite  handsome. 
I  had  no  idea  he  could  turn  out  anything  like  that. 
.  .  .  Meriel  is  too  like  her  Grandmama,^  but  Lucy 
is  pretty  (or  very  pretty — I  forget  exactly)  .'»Where 
does  Lord  Lyttelton  get  his  peculiar  manner 
from?"  I  answered,  "Oh,  Ma'am  everything 
about  him  is  good,  it  is  delightful  to  see  him  with 
his  children."  The  Queen  bowed  her  head  in  as- 
sent. I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  admire  her  extreme 
simplicity — my  great  difficulty  is  to  keep  in  re- 
membrance that  she  is  Queen.  In  the  middle  of 
talking,  H.  M.  said,  "Oh,  I  must  just  run  and  have 
my  gown  fastened."  Very  nice,  too,  she  was  about 
William,  in  short  I  really  enjoyed  it,  in  spite  of 
having  felt  so  depourvu. 

The  Duchess  of  Sutherland  ^  insisted  on  return- 
ing home  with  me  to  see  how  William  was.  Fancy 

*Mr.  Gladstone  was  ill. 

'Among  Queen  Victoria's  letters  to  Mrs.  Gladstone  there  are  sev- 
eral that  refer  to  their  long  friendship.  In  1885,  H.  M.  reminded 
her  that  fifty  years  had  elapsed  since  she  first  met  'the  beautiful  Miss 
Glynnes'  at  Bishopthorpe,  in  1835. 

*  Dowager  Lady  Lyttelton. 

*  Duchess  Harriet,  the  devoted  friend  of  Mr.  Gladstone  and  of 
Garibaldi 


00  gir0»  (^laD^tone 

me  entering  his  room  with  her!  I  fully  expecting 
to  find  him  in  his  old  dressing-gown,  with  one 
candle,  in  short  unearthly}  We  seated  her  upon 
the  stool  of  repentance,  her  petticoats  tipping  over 
everything.  William  and  Willy  ^  meanwhile  de- 
vouring their  mutton  chops. 

Catherine  and  Mary  had  lived  so  much  with 
their  Mother  at  her  beautiful  home  at  Audley  End 
that  the  Neville  sons  were  to  them  more  like  broth- 
ers than  cousins.  The  following  letter  written  in 
1855,  from  Catherine  to  Mary,  speaks  of  their 
acute  anxiety  about  Grey  and  Henry,  two  of  the 
sons  serving  in  the  Crimean  War: 

"I  have  been  dining  with  Mrs.  Charles  Neville, 
in  search  of  information  how  to  send  Grey  books 
and  comforts.  They  won't  believe  that  Henry  is 
not  killed,  and  their  agony  of  suspense  is  awful. 
Poor  Uncle  Braybrooke  keeps  on  saying — Tf  I 
could  only  know  what  has  happened  I  feel  I  could 
bear  it  better.'  And  she  has  Chlorosene  which 
only  makes  it  worse.  We  cannot  hear  more  be- 
fore Wednesday  and  if  it  is  at  all  good  news,  we 
mean  to  telegraph  to  Audley  End.    When  Henry 

*  Glynnese  Glossary. 

*  William  Henry,  their  eldest  son,  aged  thirteen. 


]\Iary,  Lady  Lyxielton 

1857 

From  a  portrait  by  F.  R.  Say  at  Hagley 


Lettet0  from  f^tt  91 

wrote  on  the  fourth  he  was  well  and  most  thankful 
to  have  no  more  trench  work,  the  Turks  having 
been  put  to  that.  He  described  it  as  awful,  wait- 
ing in  cold  blood  to  have  your  head  blown  ofif,  far 
worse  than  a  field  of  battle — at  times  not  daring 
to  keep  one's  head  up  lest  a  shell  should  blow  it 
ofif.  All  this  acts  on  the  nerves,  as  you  may  sup- 
pose. Grey  is  so  tall,  so  slim,  his  constitution  may 
not  stand  it.  Henry  much  stronger/  Grey  is 
twenty-three  and  Mirabel  ^  always  looks  upon  him 
as  a  child.  She  is  calm,  but  we  see  how  she  suf- 
fers.^ I  hope  I  shall  get  leave  for  this  little  parcel 
of  books  to  go  out  to  him,  besides  the  other  parcel 
of  a  warm  dressing-gown,  poor  dear  fellow. 
Again  we  have  a  Cabinet  to-day.  Here  is  an  in- 
teresting letter  from  Miss  Nightingale  dated  Con- 
stantinople, on  board  the  Victory  which  I  send  you 
as  a  curiosity." 

The  following  letter,  written  on  6th  August, 
1 86 1,  from  Hawarden,  refers  to  the  death  four 
days  earlier,  of  Sidney  Herbert,  friend  and  col- 
league, the  godfather  of  one  of  their  sons,  their 
next  door  neighbour  in  Carlton  Gardens,  and  per- 
haps their  most  intimate  and  best  beloved  friend : — 

*  Grey  and  Henry  were  both  killed. 
^  Their  sister. 

'Their  sister's  hair  turned  white  from  this  agony.    Both  her  brothers 
were  killed  at  Inkerman  and  Balaclava. 


92  ^t0»  (S5lati0tone 

*'Today  brings  me  touching  accounts  from  Wil- 
ton— so  resembling  Hagley,  it  is  moving  to  the 
last  degree  ^ — and  the  same  month  too.  His  beg- 
ging their  pardon  for  keeping  them  watching  so 
long — *I  am  sorry  it  is  so  protracted,'  and  entreat- 
ing them  not  to  tire  themselves.  'I  never  thought 
that  dying  would  be  so  difficult  an  operation,  my 
poor  darlings — it  is  so  hard  upon  you  all,  but  I 
am  happy,  quite  happy.'  I  keep  the  letters  for 
you.  I  much  wish  you  could  sleep  at  Wilton,  you 
might  be  a  help  to  her,  and  they  would  never  have 
asked  you  had  they  not  wished  it." 

Here  are  her  comments,  on  his  visit  to  Windsor, 
one  year  only  after  they  were  last  there  together 
in  the  Prince  Consort's  life  time. 

October,  1862. 

"...  I  like  to  feel  you  can  be  a  comfort  to  that 
darling  Queen,  and  I  know  you  can.  You  will 
take  in  that  this  is  nearly  the  anniversary  of  our 
visit  when  all  was  still  bright.  I  was  looking  back 
to  the  little  notes  I  made  the  last  time  that  we  were 
to  meet  on  earth.  The  Prince  Consort  happened  to 
be  speaking  to  me  about  fevers  and  Lord  Aber- 
deen and  Peel,  and  I  tried  to  remember  his  con- 
versation with  you  about  the  American  War.  You 
said  to  me  afterwards  you  liked  to  think  of  it  as 

*  Mary  Lyttelton  died  in  August,  1857. 


Letters  from  ^er  93 

one  of  his  last.  .  .  .  Now,  contrary  to  your  ways, 
do  pet  the  Queen  and  for  once  believe  you  can, 
you  dear  old  thing." 

A  month  later  she  writes  of  the  ''little  boys,"  ^ 
nine  and  ten  years  old  first  going  to  school.  ''We 
have  tried  on  the  new  jackets  and  trousers  and  a 
bathing  feel  ^  and  a  gulp  could  not  be  helped!  dear 
little  fellows,  God  bless  and  prosper  them.  I  did 
long  for  you  to  see  them.  On  Sunday  they  beg  to 
go  to  Church  in  their  school  clothes,  and  I  mean 
to  be  very  brave,  indeed  they  will  look  very  touch- 
ing but  it  is  trying  the  going  away  of  the  youngest 
pair,  and  the  first  launching  of  them  into  the 
world.  You  do  understand  and  will  not  think  me 
very  weak  if  I  own  to  crying  at  the  very  thought — 
that  other  boy,  too,  just  at  the  same  moment  hun- 
dreds of  miles  off  riding  upon  the  waves — a  con- 
tinual storm  in  my  ears." 

There  is  a  pathetic  account  of  her  first  interview 
with  Queen  Victoria,  after  the  death  of  the  Prince 
Consort.  She  quotes  her  husband's  words  after 
seeing  her  Majesty  on  March  22nd,  1862,  three 
months  after  she  became  a  widow. 

"I  was  really  bewildered,"  he  wrote,  "but  all 
that  vanished  when  the  Queen  came  in  and  held 

*  Harry  and  Herbert. 
^  See  Glynnese  Glossary. 


94  qpr$»  <$laD0tone 

my  hand  a  moment.  All  was  beautiful,  simple, 
noble,  and  touching  to  the  very  last  degree.  I 
need  only  repeat  the  first  and  last  words — the  first 
(putting  down  her  head  and  struggling,  'The  na- 
tion has  been  very  good  to  me  in  my  sorrow;' 
the  last,  'I  earnestly  pray  it  may  be  long  before 
you  are  parted  from  one  another.'  " 

After  the  interview  this  message  reached  Mr. 
Gladstone:  "Of  all  her  Ministers,  she  seemed  to 
feel  that  you  had  entered  most  into  her  sorrows: 
she  dwelt  especially  on  the  manner  in  which  you 
had  parted  with  her."  He  left  her  astonished  at 
her  humility.  It  was  impossible  not  to  be  deeply 
stirred  by  her  noble  sorrow. 

''The  first  sight  of  her  was  so  piteous,"  wrote 
Mrs.  Gladstone.  "She  saw  I  was  nervous,  and 
when  I  kissed  her  hand  drew  me  to  her  and  kissed 
me.  'After  all  I  am  but  a  wretched  woman,'  she 
said.  'You  who  are  such  a  loving  wife,  I  knew 
how  you  would  feel  for  me,'  and  she  gazed  at  me 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  there  seemed  so  heavenly  an 
expression,  a  look  beyond  this  world,  and  all  the 
time  such  gentle  kindness  and  submission.  She 
spoke  of  the  sympathy  she  had  always  felt  for 
widows.  At  the  first  moment  of  his  peril  she  had 
uttered:  'You  cannot  tell  me  that  I  am  to  lose  him.' 


^Letters  from  l^er  95 

Princess  Alice  was  the  one  to  break  the  reality  to 
her  Mother.  She  told  me  that  she  could  only  bear 
it  from  feeling  it  was  only  for  a  time.  She  dwelt 
upon  the  awful  loneliness,  how  that  the  daily  life 
together  had  grown  into  a  very  part  of  her  being — 
now  she  had  no  one  to  tell  things  to.  Anything 
new,  any  change  in  a  great  trial,'  she  said.  She 
spoke  of  the  help  it  was  to  go  on  with  his  wishes, 
to  carry  out  and  finish  his  plans.  'Yes,  this  helps 
me  on,  and  there  is  another  thing  helps.  It  is  ex- 
traordinary how  I  cannot  help  constantly  expect- 
ing to  find  him — whether  it  is  out  walking,  near 
some  tree  or  some  flower,  or  sitting  in  some  par- 
ticular spot — or  coming  into  the  room  and  hearing 
his  footstep.' 

*'As  the  Queen  spoke  she  would  grow  quite  ani- 
mated, with  the  idea  almost  as  if  she  was  going  to 
see  him.  Then  the  countenance  changed  again  to 
sadness.  She  asked  me  much  about  my  Sister, 
whether  she  had  sufifered.  I  told  her  how  once  my 
darling  had  said  'I  had  no  idea  there  could  be 
such  suffering.'  The  Queen  looked  full  of  pity. 
I  often  feel  if  the  Prince  had  tried  to  live,  if  he 
had  had  more  nervous  energy,  he  might  perhaps 
have  recovered.  She  had  already  spoken  of  his 
having  had  no  fear  of  death,  and  reasoned  upon  it 


96  9^t$*  (^IaD0tone 

as  the  more  remarkable  that  'he  was  far  from  being 
one  that  had  no  pleasure  or  interest  in  life.' " 

Later  the  Queen  wrote  to  Mr.  Gladstone  a  let- 
ter "of  passionate  desolation,"  she  ends.  "Mrs. 
Gladstone,  who  is  a  most  tender  wife,  may  in  a 
faint  manner  picture  what  the  Queen  suf- 
fers." 

In  October,  1861,  the  distress  in  Lancashire 
reached  a  climax.  The  American  Civil  War  had 
arrested  the  supply  of  cotton,  and  pretty  nearly 
produced  something  like  famine  in  Lancashire. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  set  a  scheme  on  foot  for 
the  employment  of  Lancashire  operatives  and  they 
had  enlisted  the  co-operation  of  Lord  Westmin- 
ster, Sir  John  Hamner  and  others  of  their  neigh- 
bours, and  collected  a  considerable  sum  of  money. 
The  men  were  to  be  employed  on  the  several  es- 
tates, and  at  Hawarden  Mrs.  Gladstone  and  her 
brothers  marked  out  new  walks  winding  through 
some  of  the  most  entrancing  spots  in  the  Park. 
Mrs.  Gladstone  went  off  to  investigate  for  herself 
the  condition  of  the  cotton  towns  of  Lancashire, 
and  from  her  letters  her  husband  formed  the  high- 
est opinion  of  the  "passive  fortitude"  of  the  suffer- 
ers under  conditions  of  acute  distress.  "Self-com- 
mand, respect  for  order,  patience  under  suffering. 


Mrs.  Gladstone 
1863 

A  photograph  taken  for  the  Prince  of  Wales'  Wedding  Album 


Letters  from  ^et  97 

confidence  in  the  law."  In  the  middle  of  Novem- 
ber she  writes  to  him  from  Blackburn,  and  men- 
tions how  she  is  keeping  the  Queen  informed  of 
the  condition  of  the  population.  She  speaks  of  the 
great  joy  and  comfort  given  by  the  Queen's  sym- 
pathy and  her  messages  to  the  sufferers.  She  visit- 
ed the  poor  people  in  their  homes  and  describes 
the  wonderful  way  "the  men  plod  to  Church  to 
listen  to  their  Rector's  words  of  exhortation  and 
hope.  It  was  very  edifying  to  see  their  attentive- 
ness,  but  moving  to  the  last  degree  to  notice  the 
pale  emaciated  faces  and  the  look  of  sadness — yet 
a  resigned  look,  too.  Dr.  Robinson  asked  me  to 
speak  to  them  and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
try — simple  and  short — indeed,  I  felt  ready  to  cry 
as  I  noticed  one  man  in  tears.  God  will  help 
them.  'Yes,  these  are  times  no  one  can  ever  for- 
get, they  will  do  us  good,'  said  another  man.  One 
of  them  spoke  of  the  Text,  'Strive  ye  to  enter  in.' 
'We  must  not  think  of  the  great  cost  if  it  is  to  lead 
us  to  Heaven.  O,  one  ought  to  be  the  better  for 
all  this  experience.'  " 

November  17.  "A  very  overpowering  day,  in 
truth  I  am  tired  and  cannot  do  justice  to  the 
scenes.  I  had  to  make  another  very  little  speech 
to-day  to  the  poor  men.    Their  grateful  looks  are 


98  ®t0»  0laD0tone 

so  touching,  but  the  extent  of  the  misery  goes  to 
one's  very  heart — the  sadness,  the  endurance.  The 
Mayor  came  and  thanked  them  all  for  me.  Three 
hearty  cheers  and  then  one  more  for  you  for  send- 
ing me  here." 

From  Blackburn  she  proceeded  to  Preston,  Dar- 
win, and  Ashton-under-Lyne.  "A  most  interesting 
day,  seeing,  investigating,  advising."  She  gives 
touching  Instances  of  her  experiences: — 

''When  I  told  her  I  would  take  the  child,  the 
emotion  was  too  much,  she  fell  upon  her  knees — 
and  there  are  hundreds  of  such  cases  of  silent  un- 
complaining misery."  During  her  progress  she 
caught  a  chill,  completely  losing  her  voice,  but 
still  persevered. 

"I  just  managed  Staley  Bridge  on  the  20th  and 
realised  Dr.  Whittaker's  noble  doings.  ...  I  was 
actually  sick  between  acts,  managing  to  hide  in  a 
quiet  room  and  then  to  emerge  later  and  appear 
better,  comme  si  rien  n'etaitf  When  I  reached 
Stockport  I  was,  alas!  compelled  to  give  in  and 
make  my  excuses.  I  should  not  presume  to 
think  my  going  or  not  going  could  be  of  conse- 
quence, only  the  kind  feelings  for  my  name,  really 
for  your  sake,  seems  to  have  swelled  into  some- 
thing (poor  me)  very  big." 


Letter0  from  5)er  99 

Mrs.  Gladstone  got  up  a  Concert  at  Hawarden 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Lancashire  distress,  when  she 
arranged  that  the  poor  factory  girls  should  go  on 
to  the  platform  in  their  working  clothes,  their 
shawls  over  their  heads.  They  sang  "Hard  Times" 
with  pathetic  fervour  and  the  whole  audience  was 
moved  to  tears. 

In  her  frequent  visits  to  Windsor  and  Osborne 
she  makes  many  shrewd  remarks  about  the  Queen, 
always  struck  by  her  simplicity  and  sincerity,  her 
common  sense.  "I  never  hear  her  talk  without 
feeling  one  ought  to  be  the  better  for  it,  she  is  so 
true."  She  quotes  a  remark  of  Her  Majesty's  dur- 
ing the  American  War,  advising  carefulness  in 
judgment.  "  T  am  afraid,'  she  said,  'we  are  very 
apt  to  have  one  law  for  ourselves  and  another  for 
other  people.'  The  way  H.  M.  discusses  things 
always  interests  me,  arguing  her  own  points  and 
listening  to  the  differences  of  others,  all  the  time 
with  a  certain  decision  of  manner."  She  com- 
ments on  the  charm  and  happiness  of  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Prussia.  The  Princess  took  her 
to  her  own  suite  of  rooms  at  Windsor  to  see  her 
works  of  art.  "I  have  never  been  able  to  afford  to 
have  the  casts  made  into  marble,"  she  said,  "we 
have     so     many     expenses — children — journeys, 


etc." 


100  ^r0»  (©IaD$tone 

The  winning  simplicity  of  the  family  circle 
strikes  her,  the  Queen's  relations  with  her  sons-in- 
law  recalls  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland's  footing 
with  the  Duke  of  Argyll.  The  delight  of  the  ad- 
vent of  the  Danish  bride,  her  beauty,  her  bright- 
ness, her  fun.  In  1871,  when  Mrs.  Gladstone  was 
at  Osborne,  the  Queen  was  most  anxious  the  public 
should  realise  how  devotedly  the  Princess  of 
Wales  nursed  her  husband  in  his  dangerous  illness 
in  1 871,  how  she  never  left  him  day  or  night.  That 
apparently  they  understood  it  was  his  sister.  Prin- 
cess Alice  of  Hesse,  who  nursed  him.  She  begged 
Mrs.  Gladstone  to  take  every  opportunity  of  mak- 
ing this  clear. 

Hawarden,  June  9,  1879. 

" 's  letters  [from  Faringford]  are  capital 

— the  second  surpassing  the  first.  Tennyson  loves 
them  both  and  is  more  quaint  than  ever — examines 

's  features,  treats  her  as  a  child,  is  amused 

at  what  he  calls  her  petit  nez  retrousse,  says  its 
wickedness  is  counteracted  by  her  strong  jaw 
bone." 

In  1883  she  meets  at  Osborne  the  three  Prin- 
cesses, daughters  of  Princess  Alice  of  Hesse,  her 
husband  sitting  between  them  at  dinner,  and  de- 
scribes specially  the  second — "a  very  striking  face, 


ILettct0  from  5)er  loi 

fine  speaking  eyes,  a  dear  manner,  listens  with  that 
eager  attention  that  brings  out  the  expression  of 
her  countenance.  The  third  daughter  quite  as 
natural  and  nice,  good  countenance,  simple,  and 
forthcoming,"  How  little  could  then  be  guessed 
the  tragic  fate  that  awaited  them  in  Russia! 

To  force  the  Turk  to  carry  out  the  provisions  of 
the  Treaty  of  Berlin,  Mr.  Gladstone's  Govern- 
ment threatened  the  blockade  of  Smyrna. 

Hawarden,  October  ii,  1880. 

"After  being  in  bed  with  this  tiresome  throat  'joy 
did  come  in  the  morning.'  Oh,  your  large  sheet 
and  its  contents  and  Hymn  of  Praise  I  For  His 
power  has  wrought  wonders. 

We  praise  Thee  and  will  praise  Thee, 

We  bless  Thee  and  will  bless, 

We  give  thanks  to  Thee  and  will  give  thanks. 

And  you,  dearest  own,  who  have  mercifully  been 
permitted  to  take  part  in  such  mighty  operations! 
What  shall  I  say?  It  is  almost  too  much  to  think 
of  this  consummation!  the  'ideal  of  your  life'  in 
foreign  policy,  God  only  grant  it  may  be  all  right 
and  no  more  bolting.  But  if  he^  does  bolt  on 
learning  more  as  to  the  cowardly  Powers,  my  hope 
even  then  is  that  the  Powers  may  have  had  the 

*The  Sultan. 


102  9^x$.  (SIaD0tone 

warning  from  the  Sultan's  white  feather  and  join 
issue  at  once.  You  see  I  am  arming  myself  for 
contingencies.  We  shall  be  all  ready  for  you  to- 
morrow." 

''The  Flowers  ^  came  to  hand  yesterday  in  time 
for  a  lovely  glow  of  sunshine  which  lighted  up 
garden  and  Castle  and  all.  They  are  very  light 
in  hand  and  easily  pleased,  but  disappointed  that 
you  are  away,  I  have  been  silent  and  dull  until 
you  open  my  lips  as  to  Smyrna  and  Ireland,  for 
though  the  paper  has  it,  of  course,  that  is  differ- 
ent from  my  confirmation!  Doubly  careful  with 
Lady  Herbert.  .  .  The  Flowers  are  very  large- 
hearted  people,  full  of  good  deeds,  coffee-houses, 
hospitals,  etc." 

TO  M.  G. 

Sandringham,  21st  November  1880. 

"Here  we  are,  somehow  we  hated  the  start, 
early  at  station;  cold  east  wind,  so  we  got  chilled; 
travelled  with  the  Granvilles,  I  feel  I  appreciate 
her  much  more.  King's  Lynn  gave  us  a  recep- 
tion— nice  to  see  the  people  hunting  for  him  pa- 
tiently in  the  cold,  in  the  way  you  know  so  well. 
Ely  Cathedral,  though  nearly  in  the  dark,  stood 
grandly  and  looked  majestic.  As  we  entered  the 
hall   (with  my  usual  arriving  feelings)   we  were 

^  Afterwards  Lord  and  Lady  Battersea. 


Jletters  from  f^tt  103 

met  by  the  darling  Hostess,  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
Duke  of  Edinburgh,  and  last  not  least,  dear  little 
trio  of  Princesses,  the  eldest  twelve — all  so  homey. 
Princess  so  dear  and  different  to  London,  came  to 
our  rooms  upstairs  and  said  to  Steene,^  who  curt- 
seyed in  the  corner,  she  hoped  that  'all  was  comfy' 
(fancy  her  delight).  Lovely  flowers  in  my  bed- 
room. I  sat  by  Prince  of  Wales  and  Dr.  Acland 
at  dinner — afterwards  we  chatted  abundantly, 
Princess  showing  me  her  sitting-room  and  her  col- 
lections— she  is  the  most  dear  homey  thing,  full 
of  her  sons,  w^ho  have  left  for  i8  months.  The 
eldest  dotes  on  his  Mother.  [Prince  Eddy]  said  in 
his  last  letter — 'Darling  Mother  dear,  I  smelt  some 
scent  which  you  always  use,  and  it  made  me  so 
sad.'  " 

''Father  is  to  read  the  Lessons  by  order  of 
Prince  and  Princess.  A  bright  glorious  cold  day 
and  we  are  just  going  to  Church.  We  are  back 
— you  will  have  the  first  lesson  fresh  in  your  heart 
and  mind — "In  the  sight  of  the  Unwise."  "Stir 
Up"  Sunday.  Think  of  the  words  coming  from 
Father's  lips,  the  pathos  and  glorious  emphasis. 
The  Princess  chooses  the  Hymns  always  and  to- 
day had  taken  the  greatest  pains  to  select  his 
(Father's)  favourites — 'Rock  of  Ages'  and  'Lead, 

*  A  faithful  maid  with  her  for  30  years. 


104  Q^r0»  <^Ia00tone 

Kindly  Light.'  Wasn't  it  pretty?  The  Memorial 
to  her  baby  just  behind  the  Princess  'Suffer  Lit- 
tle Children'  and  Our  Lord  receiving  the  baby. 
Singing  very  pretty  and  all  reverently,  nicely  done 
— the  Altar  with  Cross  and  flowers.  Father  very 
happy.    They  made  me  play  at  bowls! 

"Mind  you  arrange  I  should  see  you  on  my  way 
to  Wellington  and  give  you  the  birthday  kiss." 

In  November,  1880,  she  mentions  a  dinner  at 
the  Childers',*  "very  interesting,  I  sitting  next  to 
Sir  F.  Roberts.  I  liked  him  extremely,  so  modest, 
pacific  seemingly  as  to  Ireland,  which  won  my 
heart.  Who  should  walk  in  after  dinner  (only 
ladies  present)  but  Sir  Bartle  Frere — his  daugh- 
ter beamed  and  I  had  to  say  something  nice  to  him, 
at  the  risk  of  his  not  knowing  me.  Duke  of  Cam- 
bridge whispering  and  touching  one's  face.  Mrs. 
Childers  triumphant,  Dufferins,  Morleys.  I  liked 
young  Childers,  the  lad  who  was  at  Eton  with 
Harry  and  Herbert.  He  is  just  back  from  India 
with  Sir  F.  R. — and  evidently  a  sort  of  right  hand 
to  him.  .  .  .  Father  just  out  of  Cabinet,  Ministers 
looking  relieved.  .  .  .  To-morrow  we  go  to  Con- 
valescent Home  to  see  the  new  room." 

*  Minister  for  War. 


]\Irs.  Gladstone  and  her  Son  Herbert 
1861 


JLettet0  from  f^tt  105 

TO  M.  D. 

Sandringham,  29th  January  1887. 

"Here  we  are  in  spite  of  yesterday's  scrimmage, 
for  upon  waking  Father  was  not  well — I  sent  for 
Clark  (perturbation),  he  meanwhile  hoping  to  get 
ofif  coming  here — all  ended  well  and  our  journey 
was  easy  and  luxurious — grand  saloon  carriage 
and  the  Prince  in  another,  Good  Bishop  Claugh- 
ton  with  us — he  thrills  over  Lucy;  give  her  his  best 
love.  Great  demonstrations  at  Cambridge  (where 
we  shot  out  Helen  into  the  arms  of  admiring 
crowds),  at  Ely,  and  King's  Lynn.  Eddie  Hamil- 
ton tells  me  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  very  good- 
natured  as  to  the  great  crowds  and  cheering  for 
Father  and  was  much  interested  to  see  it.  It  felt 
very  queer  with  a  Prince  of  Wales  in  the  offing. 
All  kindness  he  was,  took  me  and  Madame  de 
Falbe  in  his  carriage  from  the  station  to  the  House, 
so  genial  and  kind.  Fancy  her  turning  out  to  have 
been  Mrs.  Dudley  Ward,  who  sang  years  ago  at 
our  house.  I  sat  at  dinner  between  Prince  of 
Wales  and  Prince  Eddy.  I  had  some  interesting 
talk  with  the  former  about  Randolph,  he  seems  to 
take  his  part.  .  .  .  Just  come  from  Church  in  car- 
riage with  darling  Princess — more  dear  than  ever. 

She  was  quite  full  of  your  illness.    Old in 

white  damask  last  night,  hair  carefully  arranged 


106  ^t0»  aiaD0tone 

and  fuzzed,  looking  quite  young  behind.  We  all 
sang.  I  pretending  to,  to  please  Princess.  Prin- 
cess of  Wales  accompanying  three  daughters. 
Falbe  and  I  in  a  sort  of  mad  glee  till  the  men  came 


in.  .  .  ." 


Sandringham,  January  30th. 

"We  have  had  a  very  nice  visit  here.  There  is 
really  nothing  like  this  Royal  Home — such  sim- 
plicity and  reality  and  thought  for  others.  I  am 
struck  by  their  having  people  who  fitted.  Eddie 
H.  and  dear  Bishop  Claughton.  He  is  all  tender- 
ness, and  so  interested  in  our  going  back  to  Ha- 
warden  for  the  Mission.  No  trace  of  ailment. 
Tell  Lucy  his  luncheon  before  starting  was  arrow- 
root and  brandy;  he  is  to  have  as  little  butter  as 
possible,  and  less  tea.  But  I  am  more  than  thank- 
ful seeing  how  entirely  he  was  in  his  own  force 
and  form  in  House  of  Commons,  voice  excellent, 
something  peculiarly  dignified  in  his  speech. 
Fancy  Lady  Pembroke  and  Adelaide  admiring 
though  of  course  not  agreeing.  In  the  meantime 
Helen  and  I  were  trembling  as  to  Cambridge,  Dr. 
Clark  rather  shaken  as  to  whether  he  could  do  it 
all  after  Sandringham. 

(Finished  at  Newnham  College.) 

"I  am  to  dine  with  the  Students,  Father  in  Hall 
with  Dr.  Butler,  then  to  come  here  to  tea  and  bed. 


Jlettets;  from  l^et  107 

So  pretty  to  see  the  girls  playing  in  the  garden. 
What  fine  children  the  Lytteltons,  nice  and  affec- 
tionate and  unshy.  Father  happy  in  his  pretty 
tiny  dressing-room.  No  one  could  explain  all  this 
— one  must  see  it  to  understand.  Certainly  Helen 
wins  their  hearts,  and  they  win  hers.  There  is  no 
doubt  of  this,  and  there  is  such  ease  about  it  all, 
everyone  is  natural." 

TO  M.  D. 

Newnharn,  January  31st,  1887. 

"We  are  to  meet  some  thrilling  company  again 
at  tea,  Father  and  all.  Yesterday  we  went  to 
King's.  Oh!  the  Nunc  dimittis,  too  lovely.  How 
glorious  the  organ  and  the  whole  building,  lifting 
one  up !  It  is  extraordinary  the  feeling  for  Father. 
He  is  so  well  and  enters,  as  you  know,  into  every- 
thing. Kathleen  awfully  kind  and  you  and  Lucy 
will  delight  in  hearing  how  much  struck  we  are 
with  dear  Arthur's  ^  whole  bearing — the  right 
man  in  the  right  place.  Father  says  he  fills  it  just 
as  you  would  most  desire.  .  .  ." 

In  another  letter  from  Sandringham  she  de- 
scribes a  knock  at  the  door  just  as  she  was  ready 
for  bed.  In  walked  the  Princess,  and  H.  R.  H. 
was  not  satisfied  till  she  had  tucked  her  up  in  bed. 

*  Arthur  Lyttelton  just  appointed  Master  of  Selwyn  College. 


108  g^r0»  ($Iali0tone 

"Oh,  can  you  believe  it?  We  hear  that  the  Duke 
of  Westminster  has  sold  Father's  beautiful  picture 
to  Agnew,  and  Agnew  to  Sir  Charles  Tennant.  I 
could  not  help  writing  to  the  Duke  thus  in  the 
first  moment  of  my  despair —  'Have  you  sold  that 
picture?  Oh,  why  did  you  not  tell  us  first?'  I 
hope  I  have  not  done  wrong,  really  I  felt  it  so 
much  it  came  like  a  shot." 

The  following  letter  describes  a  speech  in 
Downing  Street  to  the  members  for  Durham  on 
Lord  Hartington's  Irish  record: 

8th  July  1887. 

"Well,  oh,  dear,  dear,  but  it  was  grand — a  quiet 
winding  up  and  immense  good  expected  to  come 
from  the  speech,  given  to  700  picked  delegates. 
Such  enthusiasm,  such  attention,  the  voice  never 
flagging.  John  Morley  delighted,  and  as  Her- 
bert writes,  M.  P.'s  came  back  over  the  moon  to 
H.  of  C.  Lord  Granville  was  quite  nervous,  for 
the  speech  did  require  a  fine  hand,  as  to  Lord 
Hartington  especially.  It  was  so  Christian,  al- 
lowing for  differences  on  honest  ground,  yet  show- 
ing up  the  dangers,  viz.:  Hartington  consenting 
to  vote  Tory,  however  much  he  disagreed,  to  keep 
the  Liberals  out.  Never  was  there  a  better  audi- 
ence, seizing  every  point  and  entering  so  into  the 


Letters  ftom  ^et  109 

fun,  vide  Chamberlain's  cushion  and  the  sowing 
and  reaping.  I  never  read  the  Thanksgiving  with 
more  feeling.  You  will  observe  the  Times  even 
had  forgotten  for  a  moment  its  deadly  rancour  in 
admiration  of  the  power  and  glorious  ability.  It 
was  an  evening  to  thrill  over,  an  evening  that  made 
the  life  blood  tingle  through  one's  veins.  He  is 
quite  well.  We  dine  at  Dollis  Hill,  calling  like 
Christians  at  Argyll  Lodge  on  the  way,  and  here 
is  a  gain,  pulling  down  the  finest  Election,  tele- 
gram just  come — Glasgow  hopeful. 

"Lady  Acton  seemed  pleased  at  my  going  to  her 
on  my  way  from  Burnett's  and  Langhornes.  They 
have  been  very  anxious  about  their  son  with 
typhoid." 

"We  are  each  of  us  still  separately  engaged  in 
a  death  grapple  with  Robert  Elsmere/^  Mr.  Glad- 
stone wrote  early  in  1888  to  his  daughter,  and  on 
April  2,  "By  hard  work  I  have  finished  my  article 
— rather  stiff  work." 

At  this  time  she  wrote: — • 

"We  are  deep  in  Robert  Elsmere,  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  books.  I  am  inclined  (with 
Spencer)  to  think  it  may  do  good,  but  I  have  not 
finished  volume  three.     It  is  not  a  book  you  can 


XlO  ^t$»  <$IaD0tone 

read  fast — oh,  no,  but  I  have  a  feeling  Father's 
review  may  be  a  corrective." 

Downing  Street. 

April,  1888. 

"I  have  carefully  digested  the  latter  part  of 
Robert  Elsmere  and  I  am  bound  to  say  that  I  feel 
Catherine  was  wholly  wrong  in  continuing  her 
attendance  at  Elm  Chapel — so  very  wrong  that 
one  stood  amazed  that  with  the  nobility  of  soul 
which  she  showed  in  the  beginning  of  her  life, 
she  should  fall  so  low  in  her  mixing  up  of  her 
religions.  Yet  I  believe  her  faith  in  the  Divinity 
of  Our  Lord  was  there;  then  you  will  say  it  was 
the  more  wrong  she  should  go  to  the  Chapel. 

"Poor  thing,  her  love  for  him  clouded  her  un- 
derstanding. The  book  more  than  ever  leaves  a 
bad  taste  in  one's  mouth.  I  have  had  quiet  hours 
to  digest  the  Review  [XIX  Century~\ — and  to  be 
very  thankful  for  it." 

After  going  over  to  Saighton. 

April,   1888. 

"The  visit  to  dear  Lady  Grosvenor  a  success, 
the  new  husband,^  made  a  pleasant  impression 
upon  me — the  snug  family  group  quite  like  a 
novel,  as  after  luncheon  we  went  into  the  con- 
servatory for  coffee;  picturesque,  cosy,  homelike, 

^  George  Wyndham. 


Letters  from  l^er  ill 

pretty  young  Pamela^  playing  and  singing  to  a 
guitar,  roses  hanging  overhead  and  heliotrope. 
Enter  two  Nurses,  each  with  her  Baby,  one  from 
Eaton,  the  other  Lady  Grosvenor's.  Of  course  I 
nursed  each  one,  the  Wyndham  baby  ^  such  a 
beauty,  four  months,  sapphire  eyes,  hair  dark 
brown;  most  beautiful  the  atmosphere,  so  unfine, 
happy,  welcoming." 

Here  is  a  note  from  the  Durdans: 

February,   1889. 

"At  6.30  we  came  to  the  Durdans,  falling  in 
with  Rosebery  and  E.  Hamilton  at  the  station,  and 
here  we  are,  no  one  else,  in  deep  snow.  Father 
delights  in  the  house  and  the  books  and  the  quiet; 
you  could  hear  a  pin  drop.  Curious  to  relate,  Dr. 
Duncan  declares  Peggy's  to  be  scarlet  fever!  going 
on  well,  peeling  all  over,  disinfecting  cloths  all 
hung  about.  Strange  she  could  be  ill  ten  days, 
supposed  to  be  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  no 
throat,  and  that  neither  of  the  doctors  should 
shoot  ^  the  complaint  till  the  fever  had  gone  and 
the  peeling  was  high  gee.  ...  It  is  good  to  talk 
with  you,  dear,  whether  depressed  or  not.  .  . 

"Post  just  going — your  interesting  letter  I  have 
only  squinted  at." 

*  Pamela  Wyndham   (Lady  Glenconner.) 

^  Percy  Wyndham.    Killed  in  action,  September,  1914. 

'  Glynnese  Glossary. 


U2  ^r0»  (SlaDstone 

On  the  death  of  Lady  Rosebery. 

November,   1890. 

"I  have  had  the  most  touching  letter  from  Lady 
Leconfield — the  end  was  peace. 

Later,  Carlton  Gardens. 

"I  was  greatly  surprised  at  reading  the  Jewish 
Burial  Service — so  very  fine  (as  far  as  it  goes,  I 
mean) — the  chosen  texts — it  was  read  in  Hebrew. 
Father  had,  after  Lord  Rosebery,  to  throw  earth 
upon  the  coffin.  He  stood  close  to  him  and  his 
boys  and  was  greatly  afifected — Oh,  Mary,  when  I 
think  of  the  two  scenes  of  yesterday,  in  poor  Berke- 
ley Square  and  afterwards  at  the  Speaker's,^  the 
sympathy  that  was  wrung  from  my  heart  as  the 
poor  Speaker"  poured  out  his  griefs.  Then  the 
Ladies'  Gallery  and  the  sickening  appearance  of 
Parnell — the  astounding  revelations — the  mixture 
of  ability  and  folly,  the  contradictions  in  that  un- 
fortunate man,  the  terrible  throwing  away  of  ex- 
traordinary gifts.  .  .  .  Professor  Stuart  has  really 
been  of  great  use — some  call  him  fussy  and  what 
does  that  mean  but  that  he  does  not  let  the  grass 
grow — that  he  sees  when  prompt  action  is  impor- 
tant? I  was  struck  by  Herbert  Paul,  wise,  judi- 
cious,  cool-headed — then  there  is  Father,  calm, 

*  Mrs.  Peel's  death-bed. 
'Rt.  Hon.  Arthur  PeeL 


£etter0  from  5)er  lis 

dignified,  resolute,  feeling  the  battle  is  but  begin- 
ning, the  Tories  and  Dissenters  in  the  meanwhile 
clapping  their  hands." 

January  15,  1892. 

"I  need  not  tell  you  the  pang  last  evening 
brought  in  the  tragic  intelligence  of  Prince  Eddy's 
death,  though  I  had  been  scolded  for  frightening 
myself,  I  was  not  really  prepared,  it  seemed  too 
dreadful  to  be  true.  Oh,  darling  Princess  and  the 
young  wife  to  be.  Galignani  speaks  of  complica- 
tions, I  fear  he  caught  cold  at  Count  Gleichen's 
Funeral  .  .  .  The  thought  of  dinner  made  me  feel 
sick  after  such  tidings.  .  .  .  Father  wrote  a  very 
beautiful  letter  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  which  I 
have  copied  hurriedly  for  you.  I  trust  the  reports 
of  poor  Princess  being  ill  are  exaggerated.  All 
this  frightens  one  as  to  Prince  George." 

After  Mrs.  Gladstone's  return  to  England,  she 
heard  from  the  Princess's  own  lips  the  story  of  the 
illness  and  death  of  her  beloved  eldest  boy.  Very 
near  the  end,  as  she  sat  near  his  pillow,  in  his  rest- 
lessness and  delirium,  he  suddenly  turned  his  head 
and  looked  at  her — ''Who  is  with  me?"  he  said.  .  . 

"Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ"  was  her  answer.  And 
from  that  moment  quiet  came  to  him  and  the  look 
in  his  eyes  was  of  one  who  saw  a  vision. 


114  ^r0,  (SlaD0tone 

February,   1892. 

"I  have  finished  Miss  Benson's  novel/  Helen 
and  I  rather  agree  as  to  its  being  very  unequal. 
It  rather  jars  me  sometimes,  the  slang, — and  then 
I  am  jealous  of  goodness  being  made  disagreeable; 
and  don't  you  think  there  are  exaggerations  in 
Ruth's  character?  The  husband  is  not  well  drawn. 
Still  I  agree  with  you — there  are  very  beautiful 
bits  and  much  that  shows  great  insight  and  great 
talent." 

TO  MR.  GLADSTONE 

1893. 

.  .  .  Hawarden  all  in  sunshine.  Dossie  be- 
witching; sprang  into  my  arms  and  actually  kissed 
"Master  Pins"  ^  irrespective  of  beard. 

We  must  be  patient  with  the  Queen — by  degrees 
she  will  gain  courage  to  speak  instead  of  only  writ- 
ing. As  to  the  Opposition  I  cannot  trust  myself 
to  speak,  but  Heaven  will  bless  you,  God  grant, 
more  and  more. 

Hawarden,  undated. 

"Miss  Eleanor  Bellairs  ^  tells  a  funny  story  of 
the  Primrose  League.  One  of  their  young  maids 
went  to  a  party  given  by  the  Primrose  League,  and 
in  her  own  words: 

'  "At  Sundry  Times  and  in  Divers  Manners"  by  Mary  Benson. 

^  Lord  Armitstead. 

^  Her  father  was  Rector  of  Bolton  Abbey,  Yorkshire. 


£ettet0  from  f^tt  xi5 

"  'Mrs.  stood  up  and  made  a  beautiful 

speech.' 

"  'What  did  she  say?' 

"  *Oh,  she  said  as  'ow  we  were  to  follow  Glad- 
stone. She  said  to  us  all:  You  know  the  story  of 
Mary  and  the  little  lamb?  Says  she,  Gladstone's 
like  Mary  and  we  are  like  the  little  lamb.  He 
puts  a  string  round  them  and  leads  them  wherever 
he  likes.  It  was  all  so  plain,  and  it  was — we  have 
nothing  to  do  but  follow  Gladstone.* 

"Miss  Bellairs  declares  that  the  poor  young 
woman  never  discovered  that  the  lady  in  question 
was  labouring  to  warn  them  against  Gladstone  and 
the  evil  influence  which  made  people  follow  him 
as  the  little  lamb  followed  Mary." 

There  are  countless  letters  dashed  off  in  the  in- 
tervals of  each  progress — for  every  journey,  every 
voyage  became  a  progress  more  than  royal,  and 
each  one  seemed  to  beat  the  last  in  spontaneity  and 
enthusiasm,  people  assembling  even  along  the  rail- 
way lines  and  in  the  stations  where  the  train  never 
paused.  They  begin  with  the  historic  visit  to 
Newcastle  in  1862 — the  newspapers  of  the  day  re- 
late how  the  bells  were  rung,  the  guns  thundered, 
the  bands  played,  as  the  procession  steamed  ma- 
jestically down  the  Tyne,  ships  flying  their  gayest 


lie  ^r0»  (SIaD0tone 

flags,  the  river  banks  black  with  thousands  of  peo- 
ple.    Midlothian  in   1879  and  1880  was  possibly 
the  climax,  but  the  South  Wales  tour  in  1887  was 
a    marvellous    experience,    60,000   working    men 
sacrificing  their  day's  wages  and  paying  their  own 
expenses  to  come  to  Swansea  from  all  parts  of 
Wales,  for  a  touch  of  his  hand  or  a  glimpse  of  his 
face.     It  need  hardly  be  told  how  she  shared  in 
these  mighty  demonstrations — often  she  managed 
to  save  her  husband  by  stretching  out  her  own 
hand  to  be  touched  or  grasped  by  the  multitude. 
The  summer  of  1895  saw  his  last  voyage.    He  and 
Mrs.  Gladstone  in  the  Tantallon  Castle  went  as 
the  guests  of  Sir  Donald  Currie  to  the  opening  of 
Kiel  Harbour.    No  one  ever  foresaw  more  truly 
than  he  did  the  overwhelming  conflagration  that 
must,  sooner  or  later,  be  the  outcome  of  that  great 
assembly  of  rival  battleships,  and  of  the  piling  up 
of  armaments. 

But  it  was  in  September,  1896,  that  they  were 
received  in  Liverpool  with  unabated  enthusiasm 
and  that,  at  eighty-six,  for  the  last  time,  he  with 
undiminished  vigour  once  more  poured  out  his 
soul  on  behalf  of  Armenia. 

Here  are  two  or  three  specimens  of  these  letters: 

"Yesterday  was  a  day  which  must  hold  a  place. 

in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  thousands,  long  after 


Letters  from  l^et  xu 

the  first  enthrallment  has  died  down.  I  think  the 
young  will  speak  of  it  to  their  children,  as  they 
bless  God  for  raising  up  one  whose  great  gifts  and 
energies  could  thus  spend  themselves  on  his  coun- 
try's good,  heart  and  soul  stirred  by  the  one  hope 
and  desire  to  raise  his  fellow  creatures  for  the 
honour  and  glory  of  God.  Towards  the  end  it 
seemed  as  if  all  the  energies  of  the  man  rose  to 
their  fullest  strength — the  voice  more  melodious 
and  clear,  and  power  seemed  to  be  given  him  as 
the  occasion  demanded  ...  it  was  the  soul  in  him 
that  spoke." 

At  Torquay  in  1889,  she  speaks  of  "a  procession 
three  miles  in  length,  we  with  our  four  horses  at 
walking  pace,  enormous  masses  of  people,  imagine 
this  place  of  places  at  its  best,  white  crested  waves, 
the  wealth  of  blossom  and  verdure,  myriads  of 
wild  flowers.  He  was  not  so  tired  as  I  was  at  the 
end  of  the  day,  spite  of  his  speeches  and  howling 
cheers  in  his  very  ear.  At  Dartmouth  we  had  good 
sleep  till  4,  when  our  yacht  started  for  Falmouth. 
Though  we  roll  and  the  drawers,  etc.,  fell  about, 
no  one  was  sick.  I  have  just  peeped  at  him,  he  is 
reading  and  spoke  to  me  with  his  happy,  wicked 
look,  so  surprised  at  his  own  wellness." 


us  ^tsi.  <^IaD0tone 

Llanhydroch  House,*  Bodmin,   1889. 

"Looking  back  upon  the  last  days  of  our  prog- 
ress, it  is  all  a  marvel  to  me,  first  of  all  his  strength, 
his  vigour  of  mind — the  w^hole  management  of 
each  speech  with  almost  mathematical  arrange- 
ment and  yet  such  genius,  adapting  each  to  circum- 
stances of  the  place  and  people.  The  brain  power, 
the  enthusiasm,  the  force,  the  pathos,  and  as  yet  I 
see  no  harm.  Plymouth  will  be  the  most  impor- 
tant day.  To-morrow,  after  seeing  something  of 
this  beautiful  place,  we  are  going  to  drive  twenty 
miles  to  Lady  Hayter,  four  horses  to  fly  with  us 
and  I  hope  a  quiet  evening.  The  Trelawneys  are 
here,  old  good  friends,  and  Freddy  Leveson;  such 
a  house,  great  glorious  galleries,  such  ceilings,  such 
a  gateway,  such  kindness." 

*The  home  of  Lord  and  Lady  Robartes. 


CHAPTER  V 

LETTERS  TO  HER 

SOME  one  has  said  that  a  man's  character 
may  be  guessed  from  his  books,  and  though 
there  is  truth  in  the  idea,  it  would  have 
been  more  true  if  the  word  correspondence  had 
been  substituted.  Certain  it  is  that  in  the  case  of 
Catherine  Gladstone,  the  letters  received  by  her 
bring  to  view  attributes  not  generally  recognised. 
They  are  lights  that  show  up  the  different  facets 
of  a  jewel.  The  letters  here  selected  speak  for 
themselves,  but  there  is  one  aspect  which,  reading 
them  as  a  whole,  shines  out  above  all  others — her 
character  as  Mother,  not  alone  to  her  children,  but 
to  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men. 

The  art  of  letter-writing  is  not  easy  to  define, 
but  certainly  one  among  its  merits  is  the  power  to 
make  small  things  live.  Whose  interest  has  not 
been  more  really  quickened  by  Mrs.  Carlyle's  ac- 
counts of  her  domestic  worries,  than  by  any  of  the 
letters  written  by  her  husband?  To  be  really  ef- 
fective, letters  must  be  spontaneous,  not  laborious. 

119 


120  ^t$»  (Slanstonc 

Mrs.  Gladstone  was  alive  to  her  finger  tips — her 
own  letters  were  essentially  human  documents  and 
a  reflection  of  them  is  to  be  found  in  the  letters  of 
her  correspondents,  only  a  very  few  of  whom  it  is 
possible  to  mention  in  these  pages. 

First  among  them  must  be  given  two  of  the  mass 
of  letters  written  to  her  by  her  husband. 

Absent  from  each  other  they  never  were,  but  for 
the  imperative  call  of  duty — any  anxiety,  physical 
or  mental,  of  any  of  the  members  of  thei'r  respec- 
tive families.  But  both  lived  to  the  age  of  eighty- 
eight,  so  that  the  number  of  their  letters  to  one 
another  is  considerable.  The  two  following  let- 
ters are  chosen — the  first  on  account  of  its  deep 
personal  nature — the  other  on  account  of  its  great 
historic  interest. 

In  the  first  letter  we  recognise  that  under  all  the 
agitated  surface  of  a  life  of  turmoil  and  contention, 
''there  flowed  a  deep,  composing  stream  of  faith 
that  gave  him,  in  face  of  a  thousand  buffets,  the 
free  mastery  of  all  his  resources  of  heart  and 
brain." 

It  was  written  little  more  than  four  years  aftei 
their  marriage,  and  she  evidently  had  failed  to 
realise,  in  that  short  time,  the  imperative  calls  of 
public  duty  on  his  days  and  nights.  She  had  evi- 
dently murmured  at  his  prolonged  absence  and 


Letters;  to  l^et  \2X 

absorption,  and  she  must  have  been  pleading  for 
some  relaxation,  for  more  time  to  be  spent  with 
wife  and  children;  she  must  indeed  have  ventured 
to  point  out  to  him  that  here  surely  lay  the  first 
duty  of  a  father  and  a  husband. 

13,  C.  H.  T.     Sunday  evening. 

21.  Jan.  1844. 

"...  I  am  going  to  end  this  day  of  peace  by  a 
few  words  to  show  that  what  you  said  to  me  did 
not  lightly  pass  away  from  my  mind.  There  is  a 
beautiful  little  sentence  in  the  works  of  Charles 
Lamb  concerning  one  who  had  been  afflicted:  *He 
gave  his  heart  to  the  purifier,  and  his  will  to  the 
Sovereign  Will  of  the  Universe.' 

"But  there  is  a  speech  in  the  third  Canto  of  the 
Paradiso  of  Dante,  spoken  by  Piccarda,  which  is 
a  rare  gem:  'In  la  sua  volontate  e  nostra  pace.' 
The  words  are  few  and  simple,  and  yet  they  ap- 
pear to  me  to  have  an  inexpressible  majesty  of 
truth  about  them,  to  be  almost  as  if  they  were 
spoken  from  the  very  mouth  of  God.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  I  first  read  that  speech  on  a  morning 
early  in  the  year  1836,  which  was  one  of  trial.  I 
was  profoundly  impressed  and  profoundly  sus- 
tained, almost  absorbed,  by  these  words.  They 
cannot  be  too  deeply  graven  upon  the  heart.  In 
short,  what  we  all  want  is  that  they  should  not 


122  q^r0»  (Slatistone 

come  to  us  as  an  admonition  from  without,  but  as 
an  instinct  from  within.  They  should  not  be 
adopted  by  effort,  but  they  should  be  simply  the 
habitual  tone  to  which  all  tempers,  affections,  emo- 
tions, are  set.  In  the  Christian  mood,  which  ought 
never  to  be  intermitted,  the  sense  of  this  convic- 
tion should  recur  spontaneously,  it  should  be  the 
foundation  of  all  mental  thoughts  and  acts,  and  the 
measure  to  which  the  whole  experience  of  life,  in- 
ward and  outward,  is  referred.  The  final  state 
which  we  are  to  contemplate  with  hope,  and  to 
seek  by  discipline,  is  that  in  which  our  will  shall 
be  one  with  the  will  of  God;  shall  live  and  move 
with  it,  even  as  the  pulse  of  the  blood  in  the  ex- 
tremities acts  with  the  central  movement  of  the 
heart.  And  this  is  to  be  obtained  through  a  double 
process;  first  that  of  repressing  the  inclination  of 
the  will  to  act  with  reference  to  self  as  a  centre. 
The  second  to  cherish,  exercise  and  expand  its  new 
and  heavenly  power  of  acting  according  to  the  will 
of  God,  first  perhaps  by  painful  effort  in  great 
feebleness,  but  with  continually  augmenting  regu- 
larity and  force,  until  obedience  become  a  neces- 
sity of  second  nature.  .  .  . 

"Resignation  is  too  often  conceived  to  be  merely 
a  submission.  But  it  is  less  than  the  whole  of  the 
work  of  a  Christian.    Your  full  triumph  as  far  as 


Letteris  to  ^et  X23 

that  particular  occasion  of  duty  is  concerned  will 
be  to  find  that  you  not  merely  repress  inward  ten- 
dencies to  murmur — but  that  you  would  not  if  you 
could  alter  what  in  any  matter  God  has  plainly 
willed.  .  .  .  Here  is  the  great  work  of  religion; 
here  is  the  path  through  which  sanctity  is  attained. 
And  yet  it  is  a  path  evidently  to  be  traced  in  the 
course  of  our  daily  duties.  .  .  .  Our  duties  can 
take  care  of  themselves  when  God  calls  us  away 
from  any  of  them.  ...  To  be  able  to  relinquish  a 
duty  on  command  shows  a  higher  grace  than  to  be 
able  to  give  up  a  mere  pleasure  for  a  duty.  .  .  ." 

The  other  letter  tells  of  the  epoch-making  speech 
delivered  by  Mr.  Gladstone  in  reply  to  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli's first  Budget,  December,  1852. 

"Like  two  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  champions, 
these  redoubtable  antagonists  gathered  up  all  theif 
force  for  the  final  struggle,  and  encountered  each 
other  in  mid  career.  How  rather  equal  than  like, 
each  side  viewed  the  struggle  of  their  chosen  ath- 
letes, the  fortunes  of  two  parties  marshalled  in  ap- 
parently equal  array. 

"  'I  have  never  gone  through  so  exciting  a  pas- 
sage of  Parliamentary  life,'  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone on  December  18,  1852;  'I  came  home  at  7, 


124  ^t0»  (^Iali0tone 

dined,  read  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  actually 
contrived  to  sleep  for  another  quarter  of  an  hour. 
Disraeli  rose  at  10.20,  and  from  that  moment  I  was 
on  tenter  hooks,  except  when  his  superlative  acting 
and  brilliant  oratory  absorbed  me  and  made  me 
quite  forget  that  I  had  to  follow  him.  He  spoke 
till  I  a.  m.  His  speech  on  the  whole  was  grand, 
the  most  powerful  I  ever  heard  from  him.  At  the 
same  time  it  was  disgraced  by  shameless  personali- 
ties. When  I  heard  his  personalities  I  felt  there 
was  no  choice  but  to  go  on.  My  great  object  was 
to  show  the  Conservative  party  how  their  leader 
was  hoodwinking  them.  The  House  has  not,  I 
think,  been  so  excited  for  years — the  power  of  his 
speech,  the  importance  of  the  issue,  the  lateness  of 
the  hour  were  the  causes.  My  brain  was  strung 
high  and  has  not  yet  got  back  to  calm,  but  I  slept 
well  last  night.  Still  the  time  is  an  anxious  one, 
and  I  am  very  well  and  not  unquiet.  I  am  told 
Disraeli  is  much  stung  by  what  I  said.  I  am  very 
sorry  it  fell  to  me  to  say  it.  God  knows  I  have  no 
wish  to  give  him  pain;  and  really  with  my  deep 
sense  of  his  gifts,  I  would  only  pray  they  might  be 
well  used." 

The  Times  writer  contrasts  the  two  speeches  in 
this  Homeric  battle: — "Mr.  Disraeli's  speech  was 


Letter0  to  \^tt  125 

In  every  respect  worthy  of  his  oratorical  reputa- 
tion. The  retorts  were  pointed  and  bitter,  the  hits 
telling,  the  sarcasm  keen,  the  arguments  in  many 
respects  cogent,  in  all  ingenious,  in  some  convinc- 
ing. The  merits  were  counterbalanced  by  no  less 
glaring  defects  of  tone,  temper  and  feeling.  In 
some  passages  invective  was  pushed  to  the  limit  of 
virulence,  and  in  others  the  coarser  stimulants  to 
laughter  were  very  freely  applied.  Occasionally 
whole  sentences  were  delivered  with  an  artificial 
voice  and  a  tone  of  studied  and  sardonic  bitterness, 
most  painful  to  the  audience,  and  tending  to  dimin- 
ish the  effect  of  this  great  Intellectual  and  physical 
effort.  The  speech  of  Mr.  Gladstone  was  in 
marked  contrast — pitched  throughout  in  a  high 
tone  of  moral  feeling — the  language  was  less 
studied,  less  ambitious — and  though  commencing 
in  a  tone  of  stern  rebuke,  it  ended  in  words  of  the 
most  pathetic  expostulation.  That  power  of  per- 
suasion which  seems  denied  to  his  antagonist,  Mr. 
Gladstone  possesses  in  great  perfection, — and  when 
he  concluded  the  House  might  well  feel  proud  of 
him,  and  of  themselves." 

The  blow  to  protection  and  all  Its  works  resulted 
In  the  defeat  of  the  Government,  and  Mr.  Glad- 


X26  g^rsf*  (SlaDStone 

stone  became  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  for  the 
first  time. 

This  appears  to  have  been  the  only  occasion  that 
Mrs.  Gladstone  was  absent  from  her  husband  at  a 
great  crisis  in  the  history  of  our  times.  In  a  letter 
written  to  her  a  few  days  later,  Mr.  Gladstone 
comments  on  the  unexpected  loss  of  temper  shown 
by  Lord  Derby  on  his  resignation  of  the  Premier- 
ship; he  contrasts  it  with  what  took  place  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  "Nothing,"  he  wrote,  "could 
be  better  in  temper,  feeling  and  judgmen-t  than 
Disraeli's  farewell."  And  thus  the  curtain  fell 
after  a  victory  which  the  Times  described  as  "not 
merely  of  a  battle,  but  of  a  war — not  a  reverse,  but 
a  conquest." 

The  earliest  letter  here  printed,  written  by  her 
cousin  Lady  Delamere  to  Catherine's  mother,  does 
not,  strictly  speaking,  belong  to  her  personal  cor- 
respondence; but  owing  no  doubt  to  its  historical 
interest  she  carefully  preserved  it  amongst  her 
papers,  and  the  same  reason  seems  to  justify  its  in- 
clusion in  the  present  volume.  Written  in  the  year 
before  Waterloo,  the  letter  gives  a  lively  descrip- 
tion of  Blucher  and  Platof.  The  original  is 
adorned  with  clever  pen  and  ink  sketches  of  the 
two  generals. 


Letter0  to  lj)et  127 

FROM  LADY  DELAMERE  ^  TO  LADY  GLYNNE 

Sunday  1814. 

My  dearest  Mary  : 

I  did  not  receive  the  little  books  which  you  were 
kind  enough  to  send  Hugh  ^  three  days  ago,  or  I 
would  sooner  have  written  to  thank  you  for  re- 
membering the  little  fellow.  I  am  most  happy  to 
hear  such  good  accounts  of  your  Stephen  and  trust 
that  he  is  now  quite  recovered.  I  am  so  exceed- 
ingly hurried  and  bustled  with  all  that  is  going  on 
that  I  really  have  not  a  moment  to  spare  and  what 
with  going  to  see  Emperors,  Illuminations,  Jug- 
glers and  such  like  and  making  dresses  for  the  eve- 
ning, I  have  hardly  time  for  my  meals.  The  other 
night  I  had  a  famous  view  of  all  these  lions  at 
Carlton  House,  where  they  all  came  the  evening 
after  their  arrival.  It  was  very  fine  but  rather 
alarming,  however  perhaps  you  will  like  particu- 
lars. We  arrived  at  lo  and  found  at  the  upper 
part  of  the  first  room  a  circle  made  carelessly  with 
armchairs  into  which  we  were  in  process  of  time 
ushered  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain  and  his 
White  Wand.  In  the  centre  was  the  Queen, 
sitting  on  each  side  of  her  the  Prince  ^  and  the 
Emperor,*  and  behind,  the  King  of  Prussia,  his 

*Mrs.  Gladstone's  cousin. 
^  Lord  Delamere,  her  first  cousin. 
*The  Prince  Regent. 
'Alexander  of  Russia. 


128  g^r0»  (^IaD0tone 

brothers,  sons  and  nephews,  the  background  being 
filled  up  with  the  Grand  Duchess,  Princesses, 
Duchess  of  York,  Princess  Charlotte  and  the 
Prince  of  Orange.  The  coup  d'ceil  was  really  very 
fine,  and  they  looked  like  a  royal  family  on  the 
stage,  which  I  think  has  a  much  better  effect  than 
when  they  walk  about  like  us  common  individuals. 
The  Queen  and  Prince  spoke  to  everyone  and  some 
were  introduced  to  the  Emperor,  but  we  thought 
it  a  flurry  for  nothing.  When  we  got  out  of  the 
circle  we  walked  about  in  search  of  Bliicher  and 
Platof,  who  had  each  a  little  circle  of  their  own, 
and  the  first  is  as  you  see  from  drawing  annexed  a 
little  square  stout  old  man  with  a  very  wild  head 
of  hair  and  immense  whiskers  covering  his  mouth 
entirely.  He  wore  seven  stars,  infinite  crosses  and 
from  his  neck  hung  a  ribbon  with  the  Prince's  pic- 
ture set  in  diamonds,  which  he  gave  him  as  soon 
as  he  set  his  foot  in  Carlton  House.  He  is  very 
old,  but  very  galant  vis  a  vis  des  dames,  whom  he 
is  particularly  fond  of.  As  to  Platof  he  was  in  my 
opinion  much  the  best  worth  seeing  of  any,  as  he 
looked  like  an  inhabitant  of  the  deserts,  and  the 
simplicity  of  his  dress  formed  a  wonderful  con- 
trast with  the  gold  and  silver  which  surrounded 
him.  He  wore  a  quite  plain  dark  greatcoat  with 
only  a  little  silver  work  on  the  collar  and  a  silver 


Lady  Braybrooke  and  Lady  Fortescue 
grandmother  and  great-aunt  of  mrs.  gladstone 

From  a  portrait  at  Dropmore 


LettetiS!  to  ^et  129 

sash,  and  black  thick  boots,  having  positively  re- 
fused to  wear  shoes,  never  having  had  them  on  in 
his  life.  However,  to  make  amends,  the  feather 
In  his  cap,  which  as  you  would  see  in  my  drawing 
is  near  half  a  yard  long,  was  composed  entirely  of 
diamonds  and  emeralds  most  beautifully  worked, 
which  I  was  able  to  contemplate  at  my  ease  as  he 
gave  the  cap  in  my  own  hand  to  look  at.  We 
stayed  till  about  2,  walking  about  quite  at  our  ease, 
as  there  were  only  people  enough  to  fill  one  room. 


)> 


In  June,  1839,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  were 
engaged  to  be  married. 

FROM  THE  RT.  HON.  THOMAS  GRENVILLE 

Cleveland  House,  9  June  1839. 

My  dearest  Catherine: 

I  will  not  let  one  moment  be  lost  in  sincerely 
thanking  you  for  tidings  so  sincerely  gratifying  to 
me.  I  am  very  fond  of  the  great-nephew  that  you 
are  giving  to  me,  and  very  happy  In  the  excellent 
husband  that  a  bountiful  Providence  is  giving  to 
you. 

I  knew  Mr.  Gladstone  by  character  and  knew 
him  to  be  one  of  the  very  few  about  whom  there 
is  but  one  voice;  latterly  I  have  had  the  pleasure 


130  g^r0»  (©IaD0tone 

of  making  his  acquaintance  and  am  gratified  be- 
yond measure  in  thinking  that  your  future  happi- 
ness is  committed  to  one  so  highly  gifted  in  all  that 
ensure  it.  Do  not  disregard  these  as  being  mere 
congratulatory  phrases,  for  I  can  well  assure  you 
that  they  are  the  honest  expressions  of  the  feelings 
of  my  heart,  warmly  interested  about  you  and  ex- 
ulting in  a  marriage  so  promising  of  all  that  I 
could  wish  for  you.  .  .  . 

Say  all  the  kindest  from  me  on  this  happy  occa- 
sion to  your  dear  mother  and  believe  me  always 

Dearest  Catherine, 
Your  very  affectionate  old  Uncle, 

Thomas  Grenville. 

Charlotte  Williams  Wynn,  Mrs.  Gladstone's 
cousin,  was  a  diarist  of  some  note  in  her  day  and 
had  travelled  extensively.  She  formed  "close  and 
lasting  friendship"  with  Thomas  Carlyle,  Bunsen, 
and  F.  D.  Maurice. 

FROM  CHARLOTTE  WILLIAMS  WYNN 

Monday,  1847. 

My  dear  Catherine  : 

Most  heartily  do  I  wish  you  joy  upon  the  tri- 
umphant close  to  all  your  anxiety. 

I  must  say  that  I  never  could  be  persuaded  to 


Letters  to  ^er  X31 

doubt  the  result  of  the  contest.  Looking  at  the 
matter  in  its  broadest  view,  it  did  not  seem  to  me 
possible,  that  a  University^  could  wilfully  put 
away  from  her  the  man  with  genius,  and  clutch  the 
man  without. 

As  others,  however,  had  not  as  strong  faith  as  I 
had  on  the  subject,  it  must  have  been  a  very  nerv- 
ous time,  and  I  long  to  hear  that  you  are  quite 
recovered.  The  last  account  of  you  was  from  your 
servant  in  Carlton  Terrace,  before  I  left  town,  up- 
wards of  a  week  ago. 

As  far  as  Oxford,  Papa  ^  and  I  travelled  to- 
gether and  there  we  separated  after  I  had  passed 
two  days  more  enjoyably  than  any  two  days  I  re- 
member for  years.  Think  of  my  never  having  seen 
Oxford  before!  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that 
Papa  was  not  a  bit  the  worse  for  the  little  exertion 
and  though  at  first  he  rather  dreaded  it,  I  think 
he  enjoyed  the  whole  thing,  particularly  his  recep- 
tion, which  was  very  flattering.  He  then  went  on 
to  Wales,  and  the  election  has  passed  ofif  very  pros- 
perously. 

Of  course  since  my  arrival  here  the  only  topic 
has  been  the  unexpected  putting  forward  of  Cob- 
den  and  the  sudden  withdrawal  of  the  Conserva- 

'  Oxford. 

^  Charles  Watkin  Williams  Wynn,  M.  P.,  in  1847,  for  Montgomery- 
shire. 


132  ^r0»  (Slatigtone 

tive  Member.^  We  were  all  at  the  Nomination  on 
Saturday,  expecting  that  a  Contest  would  ensue, 
and  Lady  Carlisle,  who  was  here  with  her  son,  was 
in  a  state  of  fidget  beyond  anything  I  ever  saw. 
However,  after  a  wordy,  trashy  speech  from  Lord 
Morpeth  (which  had  I  been  his  Mamma  would 
have  made  me  somewhat  ashamed  for  him)   the 

whole  thing  was  quickly  settled.     Mr.  B.  

was,  I  fancy,  literally  frightened  at  the  ghastly 
show  of  white  manufacturing  hands  held  up  for 
Cobden,  which  looked  like  long  lines  of  breakers 
on  a  dark  sea,  so  dense  and  unanimous  was  the 
crowd.  He  retired — and  an  hour  afterwards  re- 
ceived an  express  from  Lord  Fitzwilliam  to  say  he 
would  support  him  with  all  the  influence  he  had  if 
he  would  go  to  the  Poll,  but  it  was  too  late. 

I  remain  here  another  fortnight  and  then  when 
Mary  goes  to  the  Lakes  shall  retrace  my  steps,  and 
pick  up  Papa  somewhere. 

He  has  just  sent  me  Mr.  Gladstone's  letter  to 
him  which,  though  it  answers  in  some  degree 
my  question  as  to  your  health,  will  not  excuse  you 
from  writing  when  you  are  able  and  inclined  to 
do  so. 

'In  the  General  Election  of  1847  Cobden  was  returned  for  Stock- 
port and  for  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  where  Lord  Morpeth  was 
the  other  member.  Cobden  decided  to  sit  for  the  latter  constituency, 
which  he  represented  until  1857. 


Lettet0  to  l^er  133 

Adieu,  give  my  love  to  your  husband  and  tell 
him  how  sincerely  I  congratulate  him. 
Ever  yours  affy., 

Charlotte  Williams  Wynn. 

FROM  CAROLINE,  LADY  WENLOCK 

Hagley,  Sunday,  1839. 

My  very  dear  Puss  : 

Here  I  am  in  dear  Mary's^  Palladian  palace; 
for  it  is  scarcely  less!  and  more  happy  than  I  can 
express,  to  see  her  so  extremely  comfortable.  She 
does  really  look  like  a  bright  gem  in  its  proper 
casket,  within  these  walls,  and  need  not  even  yield 
the  palm  to  her  celebrated  predecessor,  the  lovely 
Lucy,  so  famed  in  her  husband's  lays."  The  house 
has  been  already  described  by  Henry.  I  will  only 
say  therefore  that  it  is  as  complete  and  as  fine  com- 
paratively as  either  Stowe  or  Holkham,  having 
nothing  wrong  about  any  part,  and  being  ex- 
quisitely finished  in  the  correct  and  chastened 
taste  of  its  peculiar  day.  There  is,  too,  such  an 
atmosphere  of  high  breeding  about  it  that  one  can- 
not wish  for  modern  furniture;  or  anything  else 
but  to  leave  the  things  as  they  are — being  the  sub- 
stantial result  of  many  thoroughbred  generations. 

'Lady  Lyttelton,  Mrs.  Gladstone's  sister. 

^To   the  Memory  of  a  Lady    {Lucy  Lyttleton),  lately  deceased:   a 
Monody,  by  George,  first  Baron  Lyttleton.     London,   1747. 


134  0^t0»  ($Ia00tone 

They  say  the  last  Lord  Lyttelton  did  wonders  for 
the  place  in  many  ways,  and  all  in  the  best  taste. 
The  modern  plantations  are  beautifully  managed 
and  there  are  no  rabbits.  I  ought  to  call  them  sin- 
gle trees  perhaps  rather  than  anything  else — and 
they  are  done  with  the  most  judicious  eye}  We 
are  going  to  town  to-morrow,  and  then  we  return 
here  to  pass  a  few  more  days  before  we  consider 
our  visit  made  good.  They  have  been  so  kind  in 
forgiving  its  being  disjointed,  and  to  be  sure 
"L'Homme  propose  et  Dieu  dispose."  I  am  just 
returned  from  such  a  walk  in  the  Park,  among 
(without  exception)  the  finest  trees  I  have  ever 
seen — more  like  those  at  Wentworth  than  any- 
where else  and  with  ten  times  more  lovely  grounds. 
I  have  enjoyed  it  beyond  measure.  They  say  there 
is  every  probability  of  the  Queen's  marrying  and 
that  the  Prince  is  very  handsome.  Miss  Copley  ^ 
told  me  the  same  thing — and  a  fresh  report  is  cur- 
rent of  Lady  Cowper  marrying  Lord  Palmerston  ^ 
— provided  Lady  F.  C.  will  accept  Lord  Emlyn 
— also  that  both  the  daughters  much  dislike  the 
idea  of  Lady  C.'s  marriage.  If  you  remain  so  late 
as  the  middle  of  November,  I  fear  you  will  find 

*The  beauties  of  Hagley  have  been  described  in  Thomson's  Seasons, 
1744. 

*  Afterwards  Countess  Grey. 

'Lord  Palmerston  married  (December,  1839)  Lord  Melbourne's 
sister,  widow  of  Earl  Cowper. 


JLettets  to  ©et  135 

too  many  things  to  do  before  February,  and  we 
shall  be  cut  short  of  our  visit.  Of  all  sensations 
here,  I  think  the  most  lively  for  me  is  the  idea  of 
your  dear  mother^  and  what  would  have  been  her 
pride  and  delight  in  seeing  this  place.  It  is  ever 
before  my  eyes.  May  it  do  me  good,  and  remind 
me  that  every  happiness  below  is  meant  to  have 
its  alloy,  and  may  that  alloy  serve  to  wean  us  all 
from  loving  this  world  with  an  exclusive  and  en- 
grossing love. 

Your  loving  Aunt  Caroline. 

While  out  shooting  Mr.  Gladstone  had  blown 
ofif  the  forefinger  of  his  left  hand.  In  his  diary 
he  noted,  *'I  have  hardly  ever  in  my  life  had  to 
endure  serious  bodily  pain,  and  this  was  short." 

FROM  CARDINAL  MANNING 

Lavington,  Sept.  19,  1842. 

My  DEAR  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  can  in  no  way  express  the  feeling  with  which 
I  heard  yesterday  evening  of  the  accident  at  Ha- 
warden.  But  really  I  can  hardly  think  of  any- 
thing yet,  but  the  great  Mercy  that  it  was  not  of  a 
more  fearful  kind.  We  ought  to  give  God  thanks 
very  earnestly  that  he  was  so  far  preserved. 

I  cannot  help  writing,  though  I  am  sure  you  do 

*Lady  Glynne  had  a  stroke  in  1834,  from  which  she  only  partially 
recovered. 


136  ^t$.  aiaustone 

not  need  me  to  tell  you  how  I  have  been  thinking 
of  you  both. 

When  you  can  find  time  to  write  me  only  a  few 
words  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  you. 
Give  my  affectionate  regards  to  him  and 
Believe  me, 

Ever  your  attached  friend, 
Henry  E.  Manning. 

FROM  SAMUEL  ROGERS 

Oct.  27,  1851. 

My  dear  Friend  : 

Pray  allow  me  to  thank  you  in  the  fullness  of 
my  heart  for  your  kind  and  beautiful  letter. 

Happy  should  I  be  to  contribute  my  mite  and 
follow  you  in  any  little  influence  I  may  have  else- 
where. There  is  a  good  Angel  ^  among  us  whose 
heart  and  hand  are  always  open,  but  she  is  now, 
alas!  at  Vienna  and  if  she  has  not  already  contrib- 
uted, I  will  not  fail  to  send  her  an  extract  from 
your  letter  to  me. 

Pray  give  my  love  to  one  and  all  under  your 
roof,  not  forgetting  Mr.  Gladstone  and  a  little 
Lady  I  can  never  forget. 

Yours  most  affectionately, 

Samuel  Rogers. 
Harewood  House,  Brighton. 

*  Angela  Burdett  Coutts. 


Letters  to  5)et  137 

Acceptance  of  the  Chancellorship  of  the  Ex- 
chequer in  1853  vacated  the  Oxford  seat  and  ne- 
cessitated Mr.  Gladstone's  re-election  to  Parlia- 
ment. He  was  opposed  by  a  son  of  Mr.  Perceval, 
son  of  the  Prime  Minister  who  was  assassinated, 
and  strong  efforts,  in  which  Archdeacon  Denison 
took  a  leading  part,  were  made  to  prevent  his  re- 
turn on  the  ground  of  his  association  with  the 
newly  formed  Liberal  Government. 

FROM   SIR  STAFFORD   NORTHCOTE    (LORD 

IDDESLEIGH) 

STATE  OF  THE   POLL  AT   I    o'CLOCK 

Gladstone    519 

Perceval    453 

66 

CLOSE  OF  THE  DAY's  POLL 

Gladstone    585 

Perceval    498 

87 


Jan.,  1853. 


Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  think  we  shall  win  by  about  100,  as  far  as  one 
can  venture  to  guess,  but  it  is  blind  work.  I  do  not 
however  apprehend  that  there  is  the  least  real  dan- 


138  ®rsf.  (^latistone 

ger  of  actual  defeat.    We  have  several  men  who 
will  come  up  rather  than  see  us  defeated. 

Lord  Ashburton  voted  for  us  to-day — our  sec- 
ond peer — (Lord  Saye  and  Sele  was  the  other). 
Mr.  Bennett'^  voted  for  Perceval.  The  force  of 
imagination  can  go  no  further. 

Yours  very  faithfully  and  sincerely, 

Stafford  H.  Northcote. 

The  Dean  of  LlandafJ  came  here  on  his  way  to 
Madeira,  for  which  he  starts  to-night,  to  vote  for 
us. 

FROM   LORD   LINCOLN    (afterwards  DUKE   OF 

NEWCASTLE) 

Warrens  Hotel,  Saturday  afternoon. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  have  not  the  heart  to  call  upon  you  to-day — 
to-morrow  I  hope  to  have  slightly  recovered  from 
the  sad  and  bitter  feelings  which  your  good  kind 
husband's  letter  has  produced. 

None  but  those  who  after  a  long  and  protracted 
mental  suffering  have  allowed  themselves  to  be 
buoyed  up  for  a  time  by  some  new  visionary  hope 
can  at  all  sympathise  with  me  in  all  the  sadness 

*A  former  strong  supporter.    The  final  election  figures  were:  Glad- 
stone i,o22,  Perceval  898,  majority  124. 


Letters  to  l^er  139 

and  depression  which  this  renewed  blow  has  occa- 
sioned. .  .  . 

If  you  will  allow  me  I  will  call  upon  you  after 
morning  church  to-morrow. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone, 

Lincoln. 

I  assure  you  my  own  grief  does  not  make  me 
forget  all  the  trouble  and  annoyance  my  dear 
friend  is  undergoing  for  me. 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  NEWCASTLE 

Clumber,  31  Jan.  1853. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Your  kindness  to  me  and  my  children  is  really 
very  great  and  I  cannot  say  how  much  I  am  obliged 
to  you  for  the  way  in  which  you  are  now  showing 
it. 

I  really  do  not  know  what  I  could  have  done  if 
it  had  not  been  for  the  way  in  which  you  have 
adopted  them. 

Ever  yours  most  sincerely, 

Newcastle. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  mothered  his  children,  both  in 
her  house  in  London  and  at  Hawarden  Castle, 
during  a  time  of  great  trial. 


140  ^t0,  (^laDstone 

Appointed  Governor  General  of  India  in  1856 
Lord  Canning  found  his  path  beset  with  difficul- 
ties from  the  first.  Not  only  did  his  first  year  of 
office  witness  trouble  with  Persia  which  resulted 
in  war,  but  the  intricate  question  of  the  Oudh  set- 
tlement had  also  to  be  dealt  with.  His  second  year 
of  office  was  marked  by  the  infinitely  more  serious 
outbreak  of  the  Indian  Mutiny  which  had  been  in 
progress  for  six  months  when  the  following  letter 
was  written. 

FROM  LADY  CANNING 

Calcutta,  August  7th,  1857. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  have  not  written  to  you  for  an  age,  but  I  think 
I  may  as  well  prepare  a  short  note  for  this  mail. 
Not  that  I  shall  tell  you  news,  but  I  think  you  will 
have  thought  of  us  so  much  in  the  terrible  events 
of  the  last  three  months  that  you  will  like  to  hear 
of  us.  I  think  this  dreadful  war  is  so  purely 
"defensive"  that  I  may  count  upon  leaving  Mr. 
Gladstone's  sympathy  with  us,  and  his  hearty  sup- 
port in  giving  all  help  from  England.  I  am  sure 
too  he  will  see  a  mark  of  Providential  interposi- 
tion in  the  fact  that  the  China  Armament,  of  which 
he  so  much  disapproved,  is  turned  aside  to  such 
great  service,  and  that  Providence  brings  it  within 


Letter0  to  l^er  14X 

reach  at  the  time  all  other  resources  are  exhausted. 
All  this  is  very  striking.  We  have  as  yet  only  two 
of  the  China  ships,  and  three-quarters  of  two  ad- 
mirable regiments  turned  back  from  the  Straits. 
Lord  Elgin  promised  to  send  all,  but  I  fear  his 
orders  are  not  at  Singapore  yet  for  the  rest,  but  I 
suppose  all  will  come.  We  have  to  fight  the  Ben- 
gal army  (all  over  Upper  India  and  Bengal),  all 
but  about  a  third,  which  is  either  disarmed  or 
quiet.  Well  affected  can  be  said  but  of  very  few 
regiments,  and  we  have  but  very  few  English  regi- 
ments to  fight  with.  Between  this  and  Delhi  at 
the  outbreak  there  were  but  four,  counting  the 
whole  of  Oudh  and  the  whole  valley  of  the  Ganges 
— i,ooo  miles.  The  exertions  have  done  a  great 
deal,  but  it  is  as  anxious  work  as  ever  and  after  the 
horrors  of  Cawnpore  we  are  in  the  greatest  anxiety 
that  Lucknow  may  be  saved  and  we  fervently  hope 
that  it  is  not  too  late.  It  holds  out  and  the  assail- 
ants are  short  of  ammunition.  There  are  numbers 
of  women  and  children  in  it  and  to  think  of  the 
long  suspense  of  these  poor  things  is  really  terrible 
— 1,500  or  2,000  more  put  to  flight  and  beat  13,000, 
taking  12  guns.  As  General  Havelock's  fire  has 
done  this  we  may  trust  it  will  be  safely  taken  on 
the  remainder  of  the  march. 
Agra  is  believed  to  be  safe  and  not  as  yet  be- 


142  ^ts*  <SIaD0tone 

sieged;  it  was  attacked  and  left.  They  have  a 
very  strong  fort  well  supplied.  Poor  Lady  Out- 
ram,  who  is  shut  up  in  it,  writes  in  good  heart  to 
Sir  James  and  feels  chiefly  anxious  about  her  son, 
who  is  skirmishing  about  in  volunteer  cavalry. 
Sir  James  has  been  in  the  house  with  us  for  a  few 
days  since  he  arrived  from  Bombay.  He  now  goes 
on  to  take  the  command  of  the  Dinapore  Division 
when  he  supersedes  an  old  General  Lloyd.  This 
poor  man  is  in  very  bad  odour  with  everyone  for 
his  sad  mismanagement;  instead  of  disarming  three 
regiments  he  allowed  them  to  escape  and  the  dis- 
turbances have  taken  fresh  root  and  now  the  flame 
rages  in  Bengal  itself.  I  could  tell  you  heart- 
breaking stories  of  sorrow  and  horrors  to  make 
your  flesh  creep  but  you  will  have  enough  of  it  all 
in  newspapers.  We  have  been  so  struck  at  the 
actual  happiness  it  has  been  to  many  people  to  find 
their  relations'  names  were  in  a  list  of  deaths  by 
cholera  and  wounds  found  at  Cawnpore  with  the 
date  showing  they  were  spared  from  the  last  hor- 
rible massacre. 

You  can  never  imagine  the  surprise  all  this  hor- 
rid revolt  has  caused  here.  I  think  perhaps  most 
to  those  most  used  to  India.  The  trust  and  confi- 
dence reposed  in  sepoys  was  so  unbounded.  They 
were  so  well  treated,  so  prosperous  and  so  well  be- 


Letters  to  ^et  143 

haved  and  this  time  the  murmurs  arose  on  a  ques- 
tion which  seemed  so  easily  explained  and  the  only- 
grievance  was  one  at  once  removed.  Or  rather  it 
was  so  simple  to  show  it  had  never  existed,  for  no 
greased  cartridges  had  ever  been  served  out  (only 
used  a  very  short  time  in  a  school  of  musketry), 
one  could  not  believe  the  delusion  would  be  so 
industriously  propagated  with  all  the  foolish 
stories  about  Lord  Canning's  pledge  to  the  Queen 
and  to  Lord  Palmerston. 

Now  the  Hindoos  are  quite  aware  of  the  tool  the 
Mussulmans  have  made  them,  and  I  believe  they 
have  no  great  fancy  for  their  old  masters.  The 
strange  contrast  of  Lord  John's  drinking  the  health 
of  the  Princes  of  Oudh  and  Major  Bird  returning 
thanks  when  we  have  shut  up  the  King  is  almost 
amusing.  The  King,  I  believe,  is  quite  a  dupe  of 
his  ministers,  but  the  Oudh  Court  and  the  emis- 
saries of  the  King  of  Delhi  are  at  the  bottom  of 
the  whole,  and  the  plot  is  evidently  of  long  stand- 
ing. 

If  they  could  have  been  turned  out  of  Delhi  at 
once,  the  disaffection  would  never  have  spread  as 
it  did,  but  now  it  seems  to  have  reached  its  limits 
in  Upper  India,  and  if  Bombay  and  Madras  keep 
quiet  through  the  Mohammetan  feasts  of  this' 
month  I  hope  we  may  say  we  have  seen  the  worst. 


/ 


144  0ir0»  aiaD0tone 

Poor  General  Anson's  death  was  a  very  great  loss. 
I  am  sure  he  would  quietly  and  firmly  have  done 
the  very  best  service. 

Sir  H.  Barnard  we  have  heard  little  about;  he 
had  a  brilliant  victory  and  repelled  many  attacks 
and  now  the  cholera  has  carried  him  off.  The 
death  of  Sir  H.  Lawrence  was  most  sad;  his  was 
a  noble  character  in  every  possible  way  and  had 
done  so  well  in  those  last  times  of  great  difficulty. 
Some  few  capital  new  men  have  come  forth. 
Brigadier  General  Neil  you  are  sure  to  see  praised 
in  newspapers  and  he  deserves  it;  he  is  quite  new 
and  comes  from  Madras  as  colonel  of  an  E.  I.  C. 
European  regiment.  We  have  often  the  whole 
population  of  Calcutta  in  a  state  of  most  abject 
panic,  which  must  have  the  bad  effect  of  ruining 
the  natives'  opinion  of  their  own  power.  At  last 
the  "Volunteers"  were  allowed  both  horse  and  foot 
and  we  have  enough  English  soldiers  to  guard 
against  all  sudden  alarms.  In  the  last  three  nights 
C.  has  allowed  an  English  guard,  and  now  even 
our  bodyguard  has  quietly  given  up  its  arms;  we 
have  really  nobody  to  attack  us.  I  cannot  touch 
upon  these  topics  without  telling  of  all  at  too  great 
length.  Lord  C.  has  kept  well  excepting  a  few 
days  through  all  his  anxiety  and  toil.  I  must  say 
he  looks  upon  it  as  calmly  and  coolly  as  possible. 


Letters;  to  5)et  145 

The  country  must  suffer  greatly  in  every  way; 
civilisation  goes  back  full  fifty  years,  for  it  is  clear 
that  the  people  had  rather  not  have  it  and  are  not 
ready  for  it,  and  the  number  of  burnt  factories  and 
sugar  works  and  indigo  and  ruined  merchants  is 
very  great.  I  believe  the  natives  have  taken  alarm 
at  the  increase  of  Education  and  whether  secular 
or  religious  they  do  not  much  remark  for  either 
undermines  their  superstitions  and  religion.  Lord 
Ellenborough  had  better  not  have  made  that  cut 
at  Lord  Canning,  giving  his  weight  to  the  foolish 
reports  against  him.  I  am  sure  Mr.  Gladstone 
would  know  how  very  little  he  of  all  people  would 
incline  to  interfere  with  liberty  of  conscience.  We 
have  not  a  notion  to  what  subscriptions  Lord  E. 
alludes,  for  it  happens  that  there  are  none  to  mis- 
sions— only  several  school  subscriptions  to  great 
and  useful  schools.  I  have  got  credit,  I  find,  for 
"doing  a  great  deal"  and  visiting  schools.  The 
whole  amount  of  my  visits  was  one  to  each  girls' 
school  in  Calcutta,  five  in  number,  and  five  to  the 
school  under  Government  for  high  caste  girls  for 
secular  instruction,  and  this  was  wholly  supported 
by  Lord  Dalhousie  before  I  came.  This  was  in  ten 
minutes,  so  I  can  take  little  credit  or  blame  to  my- 
self on  this  score;  and  this  year  I  have  done  much 


146  ^tsi*  <3lnti$tont 

less.  We  must  look  forward  to  a  long  spell  of  Cal- 
cutta, and  it  is  a  good  thing  that  the  climate  does 
not  deserve  its  bad  character  in  my  opinion.  I 
have  never  had  but  one  slight  attack  of  fever,  and 
I  do  not  think  it  disagrees  with  Lord  C.  on  the 
whole.  The  Talbots  are  the  worst  specimens,  and 
he  has  gone  on  without  moving  to  the  hills,  and  I 
think  the  excitement  is  rather  wholesome  as  far  as 
health  is  concerned.  I  hope  you  are  well  and 
strong.  My  love  to  Mrs.  Talbot  when  you  meet. 
I  shall  leave  a  page  to  fill  in,  if  good  news  comes 
before  Saturday  night. 

Remember  me  to  Mr.  Gladstone. 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

C.  Canning. 

"The  Shannon"  is  coming  up  the  river  with 
troops  on  board.  A  piece  of  most  excellent  news 
— whatever  they  may  be — Lord  Elgin  must  have 
sent  her.  Madras  sepoys  are  come  too  and  be- 
lieved to  be  trustworthy,  but  I  am  afraid  they  are 
very  small  by  the  side  of  our  former  magnificent 
Bengal  regiments  and  may  be  disinclined  to  face 
them. 

August  8th,  Who  do  you  think  is  about  to 
arrive  and  pay  us  a  visit  but  Lord  Elgin  himself 


Letter0  to  f^tt  147 

in  the  Shannon,  commanded  by  William  Peel.  It 
will  be  very  pleasant  to  see  such  well-known  faces, 
but  better  still  the  1,700  soldiers  they  bring  us,  just 
when  so  much  is  wanted.  We  shall  get  on  well 
now. 

Remember  me  to  Mr.  Gladstone.  I  daresay  you 
will  see  Mrs.  Herbert;  wish  her  joy  of  her  new 
babe  for  me  and  tell  her  about  us,  for  I  do  not 
write  to  her  to-day  and  I  know  she  cares  to  hear. 
Mrs.  Talbot  and  you  are  sure  to  see  and  talk  over 
our  troubles.  I  feel  much  happier  again  now;  we 
start  afresh  with  new  force  to  save  and  relieve  those 
in  jeopardy  still. 

Lord  Canning's  calmness  and  clemency  have 
been  fully  justified  by  history. 

On  February  loth,  i860,  Mr.  Gladstone  intro- 
duced his  first  and  perhaps  one  of  his  greatest 
Budgets,  *'the  most  arduous  operation  I  ever  had 
in  Parliament."  It  upheld  the  French  Treaty,  re- 
duced the  taxation  on  certain  articles  of  food  and 
was  designed  to  repeal  the  paper  duty,  but  the  last 
proposal  was  rejected  by  the  House  of  Lords,  by 
whom,  however,  it  had  to  be  accepted  in  the  fol- 
lowing year. 


148  0^t0»  <^lati0totte 

FROM  SIR  JAMES  GRAHAM 

Grosvenor  Place, 
n  Feb.  i86a 

I  had  intended  to  have  called  on  you  this  morn- 
ing to  enquire  after  my  Friend  and  to  offer  you 
my  cordial  congratulations.  Applause  will  follow 
in  from  every  side;  you  know  that  none  is  more 
sincere  than  mine.  I  cannot  leave  home  this  morn- 
ing; yet  I  should  have  liked  to  have  shaken  the 
hand  of  Gladstone.  He  has  saved  his  colleagues 
in  spite  of  themselves.  He  omitted  nothing.  He 
said  nothing  which  ought  to  have  been  omitted; 
and  all  in  his  own  perfect  manner.  I  remembered 
Peel.  He  is,  I  hope,  in  a  better  and  happier 
World.  Had  he  been  alive  how  he  would  have 
triumphed  in  the  completion  of  his  own  work  by 
the  ablest  and  most  faithful  of  his  Followers. 

The  Duke  of  Argyll's  allusion  in  the  letter 
which  follows  is  somewhat  obscure,  but,  as  it  was 
written  on  the  day  before  the  Budget  speech  of 
1 86 1,  it  probably  refers  to  the  measures  taken  by 
Mr.  Gladstone  to  carry  the  repeal  of  the  paper 
duty  through  the  House  of  Lords.  This  he  did  by 
including  all  taxation  proposal  in  one  money  bill 
which  had  to  be  accepted  or  rejected  in  its  entirety. 


The  Rt.  Hox.  W.  E.  Gladstone 
1858 

From  a  portrait  by  Watts  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery 


Lettet0  to  ^er  149 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  ARGYLL 

Cliveden,  Maidenhead. 

April  14,  1861. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  cannot  help  writing  you  one  line  to  congratu- 
late you  on  your  husband's  successful  ingenuity  on 
Saturday,  which  made  me  as  happy  as  when  I 
joined  you  at  the  Crystal  Palace  last  year,  and  at 
which  I  rejoiced  all  the  more,  that  I  think  the 
Proposal  as  it  now  stands  is  not  only  the  best  way 
out  of  a  difficulty,  but  thoroughly  right  and  sound 
in  itself. 

I  could  not  help  being  reminded  of  a  saying  of 
an  old  Scotch  body  to  a  friend  of  mine  when  he 
proposed  something  which  she  thought  very  in- 
genious. ''Eh!  Wullie!  Wullie,  ye  may  dee  for 
want  0'  breath,  but  ye  winna  dee  for  want  0' 
wiles." 

I  expect  him  to  have  a  great  triumph  both  as 
regards  the  Past  and  Present. 

In  1 861  the  Prince  of  Wales  met  for  the  first 
time,  in  Cologne  Cathedral,  Princess  Alexandra 
of  Denmark;  needless  to  say  he  loved  her  at  first 
sight  and  later  they  were  married.  The  announce- 
ment of  the  betrothal  was  received  with  no  ordi- 
nary interest  by  the  public  at  large  and  the  future 
Queen  at  once  established  that  position   in  the 


150  ^r0»  (S5laD0tone 

hearts  of  the  people  which  she  has  ever  since  main- 
tained. Describing  the  first  meeting  between 
Queen  Victoria  and  the  bride,  a  lady  in  waiting 
wrote  to  Mrs.  Gladstone  at  the  time,  "No  one  can 
fail  to  be  struck  with  the  ease,  grace,  dignity,  and 
absence  of  self-consciousness  of  her  manner  and 
bearing,  and  sweet  intelligent  look.  The  Queen 
seemed  to  take  her  to  her  heart  at  once." 

FROM  THOMAS  WOOLNER 

29,  Welbeck  Street, 

Sept.  14,  1863. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  sent  a  copy  of  the  photograph  of  Tennyson 
which  I  mentioned  to  you,  addressed  to  you  at 
Penmaenmawr.  If  you  agree  with  me  that  it  is  one 
of  the  best  likenesses  ever  done  and  as  good  as  a 
photograph  can  be,  you  will  think  it  almost  worthy 
of  honour  of  being  presented  to  Mr.  Gladstone  to 
adorn  the  Temple  of  Peace,  taking  into  con- 
sideration the  great  admiration  which  he  feels  to- 
wards the  original  of  the  portrait. 

I  am  happy  to  tell  you  that  the  cast  of  the  bust 
came  out  very  well,  indeed,  and  I  am  now  only 
waiting  till  it  becomes  dry  before  beginning  it  in 
marble.  But  one  person  yet  has  seen  it  who  knows 
Mr.  Gladstone's  face  and  he  said  that  he  thought 
it  by  far  the  best  head  that  I  had  done.     I  find 


Lettet0  to  f^tt  151 

on  comparing  it  with  others  in  my  studio  that  it 
looks  much  more  powerful  than  any  of  the  others, 
and  I  think,  all  things  being  weighed,  that  it  is  the 
most  complete  of  them  all. 

I  cannot  enough  thank  you  for  the  thought  and 
trouble  you  took  to  aid  me  in  carrying  out  my 
work;  and  it  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  memories 
of  my  extremely  pleasant  visit  to  Hawarden  that 
I  was  so  fortunate  to  please  you  in  the  aspect  of 
Mr.  Gladstone's  character  which  I  tried  to  repre- 
sent. 

FROM  GENERAL  GARIBALDI 

Cliveden,  24  April,   1864. 

Madame  Gladstone: 

Permettez  qu'en  partant  je  vous  remercie  de  tout 
mon  coeur  pour  votre  genereuse  amabilite  a  mon 
egard. 

Votre  devoue, 
G.  Garibaldi. 


FROM   SIR  STAFFORD   NORTHCOTE    (LORD 

IDDESLEIGH) 

18,  Devonshire  Place,  W. 

April  29,   1865. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  am  very  glad  to  find  that  there  is  a  prospect  of 
some  definite  action  with  regard  to  the  Sick  in 


152  q^r0»  ($IaD0tone 

Workhouses.  The  recent  disclosures  are  a  great 
reproach  to  us,  and  I  sincerely  hope  you  may  suc- 
ceed in  getting  the  reforms  you  mention  adopted. 
I  will  not  fail  to  attend  when  the  question  comes 
before  Parliament,  and  I  will  speak  to  some  of  my 
friends  who  are  likely  to  take  an  interest  in  it,  and 
try  to  get  a  good  attendance. 

In  1868  Mr.  Gladstone  became  Prime  Minister 
for  the  first  time.  The  Queen  had  written  on  De- 
cember I,  asking  him  to  undertake  the  formation 
of  the  new  Government  and  on  December  4,  the 
date  of  Lady  Lyttelton's  letter,  he  had  in  an  au- 
dience at  Windsor  agreed  to  accept  office.  In  his 
diary  he  wrote,  "I  feel  like  a  man  with  a  burden 
under  which  he  must  fall  and  be  crushed  if  he 
looks  to  the  right  or  left  or  fails  from  any  cause 
to  concentrate  mind  and  muscle  upon  his  progress 
step  by  step." 

FROM  THE  DOWAGER  LADY  LYTTLETON 

Dec.  4th,  i868. 

Dearest  Catherine-Premiere: 

So  the  crisis  has  arrived,  and  the  plunge  is  taken. 
Well,  I  suppose  I  must  congratulate  you  and  your 
dear  husband — to  you  it  will  be  an  anxiety  the 
more  on  his  account.     May  it  be  blessed  to  you 


fitmt$  to  ^et  153 

both.  I  can  express  my  wishes  for  him  no  better 
than  by  the  first  four  verses  of  the  20th  Psalm, 
which  struck  me  as  just  fit  for  my  purpose  this 
morning.  Perhaps  in  the  railroad  carriage  you 
may  have  time  to  read  them.  Don't  think  of  an- 
swering— only  forgive  the  trouble.     I  could  not 

help  it. 

Yours  affectionately, 

S.  Lyttelton. 

FROM  LADY  PALMERSTON 

Park  Lane,  Dec.  22,  1868. 

I  am  unfortunate  in  having  called  on  you  twice 
without  success.  To-day  and  last  week,  and  I  leave 
town  to-morrow.  I  wished  very  much  to  find  you 
and  to  have  the  opportunity  of  congratulating 
yourself  and  Mr.  Gladstone  on  your  brilliant  pros- 
pects and  to  express  all  my  good  wishes  on  this 
occasion. 

Mr.  Gladstone  has  had  the  good  fortune  to  be 
able  to  form  a  Government  which  gives  a  hope  of 
long  continuance  and  I  am  very  sorry  that  my  son 
William  Cowper  was  unable  to  join  it. 

I  am  going  to  Broadlands  for  a  few  weeks  and 
I  shall  hope  on  my  return  to  find  you  and  Mr. 
Gladstone  in  great  health  and  spirits. 


154  ^r0»  0laD$tone 

FROM  BISHOP  SAMUEL  WILBERFORCE 

Winchester  House,  St.  James's  Square,  S.  W. 

March  13,   1870. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  could  not  help  feeling  to-day  when  I  saw  him 
kneeling  in  that  rapt  devoutness  at  the  altar's  rails, 
that  if  there  are  bad  signs  abroad,  there  are  to  me 
hopeful  ones.  When  could  a  powerful  Prime 
Minister  of  England  have  been  so  seen  since  Bur- 
leigh's time  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth:  except  per- 
haps Aberdeen  and  Peel? 

You  will  let  me  hear  about  Thursday.  The 
Lord  Chancellor  and  the  Clarendons  dine,  and  will 
all  look  in  after  lo. 

I  am  ever  affectionately  yours, 

S.  WiNTON. 

The  "Mr.  Reid"  whom  Bishop  Wilberforce 
speaks  so  highly  of  in  the  letter  which  follows  and 
who  was  at  the  time  but  twenty-four  years  of  age 
is  now  known  as  Lord  Loreburn,  and  became  Lord 
Chancellor  thirty-six  years  after  the  prophecy  was 
made. 

FROM  BISHOP  WILBERFORCE 

May  6,  1870. 

Will  you  invite  a  Mr.  Reid,  a  young  man,  son  of 
a  Sir  J.  Reid  who  was  some  functionary  in  the 


JLettct0  to  5)et  155 

Ionian  Islands?  The  young  man  was  a  very  dis- 
tinguished Balliol  man:  an  Ireland  scholar.  He 
held  a  school  Inspectorship — is  now  reading  for 
the  Bar;  and  will  be  Lord  Chancellor.  He  writes 
for  the  Daily  News:  and  worships  Gladstone.  He 
is  a  friend  of  Reginald.  You  met  him  at  Winches- 
ter House. 

If  you  will  send  me  ''Yes"  or  any  better  invi- 
tation I  will  act. 

The  Public  Worship  Regulation  Bill  was 
strongly  opposed  by  Mr.  Gladstone  at  every  stage 
and  in  his  speech  of  July  9  to  which  Canon  Lid- 
don  refers  he  gave  notice  of  six  resolutions  which 
in  his  opinion  furnished  a  more  secure  basis  for 
legislation,  but  his  party  declined  to  follow  his 
lead  and  eventually  the  Bill  became  an  Act.  Al- 
though proceedings  under  it  were  taken  against 
several  members  of  the  Ritualist  party  in  the 
'seventies,  it  gradually  fell  into  disuse  and  is  to-day 
a  dead  letter. 

FROM  CANON  LIDDON 

Sligo,  July  18,  1874. 

I  have  just  been  reading  a  full  report  of  Mr. 
Gladstone's  speech  on  the  second  reading  of  the 
Public  Worship  Bill  in  the  House  of  Commons. 


156  ei^r$»  (^laDstonc 

And  I  cannot  help  writing  to  you  to  beg  you, 
when  an  opportunity  naturally  presents  itself,  to 
express  to  him  my  most  sincere  and  heartfelt 
thanks  for  so  noble  and  considerate  a  plea  for  rea- 
sonable liberty  in  the  Services  of  the  Church.  I 
did  not  write  to  him  before  the  Debate,  partly  on 
account  of  your  recent  sorrow,^  and  because  I  felt 
sure  that  he  would  have  anticipated  a  great  deal 
more  than  I  could  possibly  say.  His  speech  will 
have  won  the  hearts  of  thousands  of  clergymen. 
The  other  day  I  was  at  Derry,  and  spent  an  eve- 
ning with  the  Bishop  there — Dr.  Alexander.  Re- 
ferring to  the  debate,  which  he  had  just  been  read- 
ing— he  said,  "I  could  not  forgive  Mr.  Gladstone 
for  our  Disestablishment;  but  I  own  this  speech 
completely  draws  me  again  to  him.  It  entirely 
disposes  of  the  charge  that  he  is  influenced  by  po- 
litical motives  in  these  matters;  as  such  a  speech 
must  have  forfeited  a  great  deal  of  influence  with 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  Liberal  party."  And  if 
an  Irish  Bishop  can  voluntarily  say  as  much  as 
this,  it  is.  easy  to  imagine  the  feelings  of  those  who 
are  nearer  home  and  more  immediately  interested. 

Even  if  the  Bill  should  become  law,  such  words 
will  not  be  without  effect  in  governing  its  admin- 
istration, and  in  checking  the  mere  unscrupulous 

*Mrs.  Gladstone's  brother,  Sir  Stephen  Glynne,  died  in  June,  1874. 


Letters  to  ©et  157 

exhibitions  of  partisanship  in  the  highest  places 
of  the  Church,  as  well  as  in  inducing  some  of  our 
brethren  to  reconsider  exaggerations  whether  of 
language  or  practice  into  which  they  may  have 
been  betrayed.  In  any  case,  justice,  and  still  more 
generosity,  are  not  to  be  met  with  every  day  in 
public  life,  and  I,  at  least,  learn  to  prize  conspicu- 
ous examples  of  them  more  highly  as  I  get 
older.  .  .  . 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone,  if  I  have  ventured  to  say 
too  much  and  especially  at  a  time  of  such  heavy 
sorrow,  you  will  forgive  me.  But  I  am  not  with- 
out hope  that  an  assurance  of  the  profound  and  af- 
fectionate gratitude  which  Mr.  Gladstone  has  once 
more  provoked  in,  I  feel  sure,  thousands  of  hearts, 
may  be  a  comfort  to  yourself. 

FROM  QUEEN  VICTORIA 

Osborne,  July  22,  1875. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  received  with  much  pleasure  your  letter  an- 
nouncing to  me  your  eldest  son's  engagement  to 
Lord  Blantyre's  youngest  daughter  and  hasten  to 
ofifer  my  sincerest  good  wishes  to  yourself  and  Mr. 
Gladstone.  Pray  also  offer  my  congratulations  to 
your  son.  I  can  easily  understand  how  much 
pleased  you  must  be  to  feel  that  your  future  daugh- 


158  ^x$.  <DIaD0tone 

ter  is  the  grandchild  of  the  dear  Duchess  of  Suth- 
erland, my  dear  and  valued  friend  who  was  also 
grandmother  to  my  son-in-law.  I  do  not  know 
Miss  Gertrude  Stuart  but  have  always  heard  her 
highly  spoken  of. 

Before  concluding  let  me  say  how  glad  I  was 
that  Mr.  Gladstone  appreciated  Angele's  beauti- 
ful pictures.  I  wished  he  could  see  those  he  has 
done  for  me  of  Louise  and  some  which  are  spe- 
cially successful  as  likenesses  and  works  of  art. 
Repeating  my  good  wishes. 

Believe  me  always, 

Yours  affectionately, 

V.  R.  I. 

You  will,  I  trust,  let  me  know  when  the  mar- 
riage is  to  take  place. 

FROM  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

The  Oratory,  Birmingham, 

July  4,  1876. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  thank  you  and  Mr.  Gladstone  very  sincerely 
for  your  invitation  to  breakfast.  .  .  . 

I  shall  rejoice  to  receive  Mr.  Gladstone's  Ar- 
ticles on  Homer's  Apollo  and  Athene,^  which  he 
is  so  good  as  to  promise  to  send  me,  having  already 

*  Homerology,  Contemporary  Review,  March,  April,  and  July,  1876. 


Letters  to  f^tt  159 

read  with  much  interest  some  portion  of  his  re- 
marks on  the  Homeric  Mythology. 

Tennyson  and  his  son  Hallam  visited  Hawar- 
den  in  1876,  but  before  accepting  the  invitation 
the  poet  had  made  a  bargain  that  he  might  be  al- 
lowed to  indulge  in  his  beloved  pipe  in  the  se- 
curity of  his  bedroom,  smoking  not  being  then 
much  in  practice  at  the  Castle.  With  him,  the 
poet  brought  his  newly  written  historical  drama 
"Harold,"  his  "Tragedy  of  Doom,"  as  he  called 
it.  It  seems  to  have  impressed  Mr.  Gladstone 
and  in  an  article  in  the  Contemporary  Review 
(December,  1876),  on  the  Eastern  Question  he 
quoted  the  lines 

"The  voice  of  any  people  is  the  sword 
That  guards  them;  or  the  sword  that  beats  them  down." 

FROM  LORD  TENNYSON 

Faringford,  Freshwater. 

Nov.  12,  1876. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Here  we  are  returned  to  our  winter  quarters — 
we  retain  golden  memories  of  our  visit  to  Ha- 
warden,  and  your  statesman,  not  like  Diocletian 
among  his  cabbages,  but  among  his  oaks,  axe  in 
hand.     Has  he  anything  to  say  about  my  drama? 


160  ^r0»  (SlaD0tone 

If  so  let  him  say  it  quickly  before  "Harold"  passes 
into  stereotype,  and  then  bum  or  return  the  proofs. 
I  am  glad  Hallam  made  a  favourable  impres- 
sion— I  do  not  think  any  man  ever  had  a  better 
son  than  I  have  in  him. 

Always  yours, 
A.  Tennyson. 

The  letter  which  follows  is  undated  but  prob- 
ably refers  to  the  personal  attack  made  by  Mr. 
Chaplin  upon  Mr.  Gladstone  during  a  debate  on 
the  Eastern  Question  in  February,  1877.  Mr. 
Gladstone's  reply,  a  mixture  of  sarcasm  and  light- 
hearted  banter,  has  been  described  as  one  of  the 
most  effective  and  brilliant  ever  spontaneously  de- 
livered in  the  House  of  Commons. 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  WESTMINSTER 

Cliveden,  Maidenhead. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

Here  for  the  day.  I  had  to  leave  before  I  could 
write  a  line  on  all  the  iniquities  of  last  night.  I 
never  remember  so  gross  a  personal  attack,  so  pre- 
pared and  in  such  bad  taste.  It  elicited  a  wonder- 
ful instance  in  the  crushing  reply  of  marvellous 
power  and  readiness.     It  did  one  good  to-day  to 


Letters  to  ^et  lei 

hear  the  expressions  of  sympathy  and  of  admira- 
tion. 

I  hope  Gladstone  does  not  really  mind  this  sort 
of  wretched  attacks  and  that  he  takes  them  as  a 
Newfoundland  dog  does  the  worrying  of  a  terrier. 

After  Chaplin's  language  at  Lincoln,  of  which 
I  made  a  note,  I  was  not  surprised  at  the  edifying 
performance  that  followed. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Westminster. 

P.  S. — Little  Molly*  was  looking  at  a  marble 
profile  of  Dante  yesterday  and  asked,  ''Is  that 
Gladstone?"    That  was  rather  funny,  wasn't  it? 

Did  you  hear  Rosebery's  child's  delightful  re- 
mark that  she  "couldn't  make  her  mind  sit  down." 

When  Sir  Henry  Acland  visited  Ruskin  in  1878 
he  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  attack  of  brain 
fever  from  which  he  was  suffering  could  have  only 
one  of  two  possible  results,  recovery  being  out  of 
the  question.  Happily  these  forebodings  were  not 
realised.  Ruskin  had  visited  Hawarden  previous 
to  the  attack  of  brain  fever  with  "his  health  bet- 
ter and  no  diminution  of  charm,"  as  his  host  noted 
in  his  diary. 

*Lady  May  Grosvenor,  now  Lady  Mary  Stanley. 


162  qptis*  0IaD0tone 

FROM  SIR  HENRY  ACLAND 

Bletchley,  March  lo,  1878. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  am  on  my  way  back  from  Ruskin,  at  Coniston 
and  having  to  halt  here  for  the  first  train  (I  came 
by  the  night  mail  thus  far)  I  must  write  to  you 
and  Mr.  Gladstone.  I  write  to  you,  I  own,  simply 
or  in  great  part  as  a  relief  to  pent-up  feelings  which 
either  did  not  exist  or  had  no  expression,  while  I 
was  with  him.  For  now  his  mind  is  utterly  gone. 
He  cannot  be  rightly  said  to  know  anyone.  He 
raves  in  the  same  clear  voice  and  exquisite  inflec- 
tion of  tone,  the  most  unmeaning  words — modu- 
lating them  now  with  sweet  tenderness,  now  with 
fierceness  like  a  chained  eagle — short  disconnected 
sentences,  no  one  meaning  anything,  but  beautiful 
to  listen  to  for  the  mere  sound,  like  the  dashing 
of  Niagara.  It  did  not  move  me,  though  he  would 
alternately  strike  at  me  and  tenderly  clasp  my 
hands — once  only  giving  almost  certain  sign  of 
knowledge.  To  my  question,  *'Did  you  expect  to 
see  me  by  your  bed?"  he  answered  in  the  most  pa- 
thetic tone.  "Yes,  I  expected  you  would  come," 
and  then  no  more  light,  any  more. 

On  the  1 2th  of  February  he  had  sent  the  copy 
of  his  description  of  the  Turner  drawings  to  the 
press.     The  Preface  ends  with  these  words   (one 


Letter0  to  f^tt  163 

of  Turner's  first  pictures — his  first  picture  with 
words  of  poetry  attached — one  of  Coniston  Fells)  : 
"Morning  breaks  as  I  write,  along  these  Coniston 
Fells,  and  the  level  mists,  motionless  and  grey  be- 
neath the  rose  of  the  moorlands,  veil  the  lower 
woods  and  the  sleeping  village,  and  the  long  lawns 
by  the  lake-shore.  Oh!  that  some  had  told  me  in 
my  youth,  when  all  my  heart  seemed  to  be  set  on 
these  colours  and  clouds,  that  appear  for  a  little 
while,  and  then  vanish  away,  how  little  my  love 
of  them  would  serve  me,  when  the  silence  of  lawn 
and  wood  in  the  dews  of  morning  should  be  com- 
pleted, and  all  my  thoughts  should  be  of  those 
whom,  by  neither,  I  was  to  meet  more." 

A  week  after  sending  this  to  press,  his  mind 
began  to  fail — and  on  the  24th  he  was  down  with 
the  violence  of  the  Brain  Fever. 

I  have  thus  ended  my  sheet.  As  I  look  on  his 
intelligent  life,  I  seem  to  see  how  physically  he 
has  been  over-wrought,  and  approaching  slowly 
this  grievous  precipice.  And,  as  I  reflect,  I  seem 
to  have  seen  or  known  no  similar  man.  Nor  now 
is  he  like  any  other;  nor  would  any  other  be  like 
him.  The  hours  spent  with  him  seem  to  have 
added  a  new  and  solemn  act  to  the  whole  drama 
of  life — and  though  I  looked  on  almost  stolidly 


164  ^r0»  aiaD0tone 

at  the  time  and  quite  unmoved,  I  look  back  with 
a  certain  holy,  strange  awe  at  the  mystery  of  a 
human  soul  displayed  on  Earth;  the  deep,  pathetic 
mystery  of  every  human  life. 

It  was  repeated  to  me  what  Mr.  Gladstone  had 
said  of  Ruskin  the  other  day  at  Grillon's.  You 
know  how  I  lately  wished  and  thought  about  his 
going  to  you.  I  never  saw  him  again  after  he 
yielded  to  my  earnest  entreaty  to  recall  his  re- 
fusal. And  you  have  his  last  letter  to  me.  I  shall 
be  back  presently,  God  willing,  at  my  daily  work 
— may  it  be  better  done  and  more  wisely  and  holily 
— and  if  I  find  I  can  yet  help  Ruskin,  I  shall  go 
back  again.  There  is  a  good,  kind,  sensible  doctor 
near  him,  at  Hawkshead.  His  old  friend,  Mr. 
Severn,  has  been  with  him,  too,  for  the  last  ten 
days. 

The  General  Election  of  1880  resulted  in  Mr. 
Gladstone's  return  to  the  Premiership  for  the  sec- 
ond time.  The  Midlothian  Campaign  had  been  a 
triumphal  procession  and  at  no  time  has  the  coun- 
try ever  been  raised  to  such  a  pitch  of  enthusiasm 
as  was  then  witnessed.  As  a  result  the  Liberals 
swept  the  country. 


Letter0  to  l^er  165 

FROM  LORD  BRYCE 

7,  Norfolk  Square,  W. 
Dec.  9th,   i88o. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Will  you  allow  me  to  congratulate  you  on  this 
wonderful  campaign,  and  tell  you  though  you  are 
sure  to  know  it  from  a  thousand  sources  already, 
what  a  feeling  it  has  stirred  in  the  breasts  of 
the  working  men  and  the  hearts  of  the  humbler 
classes  even  here  in  London,  where  people  are  sup- 
posed to  be  least  sympathetic  and  excitable?  I 
have  been  usually  two  or  three  evenings  every  week 
in  the  Tower  Hamlets  canvassing,  and  so  have  been 
able  to  judge  of  the  passionate  interest  with  which 
these  poor  people  have  been  following  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's progress.  One  can't  mention  his  name  at  a 
Meeting  without  everybody  springing  to  their  feet 
and  waving  their  hats.  There  is  a  warmer  enthu- 
siasm for  him  now  here  in  the  East  of  London  than 
there  ever  was  before  even  in  the  election  of  1868 
and  whatever  the  West  End  may  say  or  think  or 
write,  I  think  the  East  End  would  hardly  yield  to 
Scotland  or  Wales  in  the  depth  and  intensity  of 
their  attachment  to  his  name.  It  is  not  so  much 
a  reaction  towards  Liberalism;  it  is  what  strikes 
one  as  better  and  finer  even  than  political  earnest- 
ness; it  is  loyalty  and  gratitude  to  a  character  and 


166  g^rsf*  aiaD0tone 

career  which  are  their  highest  political  ideal.  Par- 
don me  for  troubling  you  with  these  lines  and  be- 
lieve me,  hoping  that  you  and  he  are  none  the 
worse  for  so  much  fatigue  and  exposure. 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  WESTMINSTER 

Eaton,  Wednesday,   1880. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

One  line  for  you  have  no  time  for  more  to  add 
to  the  miles  of  congratulations  that  are  your  due 
from  every  "airt." 

How  gloriously  rewarded  Gladstone  must  feel 
himself  to  be  in  the  triumph  of  all  that  is  right  over 
all  that  had  been  so  wrong. 

We  shall  win  one  seat  here  and  very  likely  both, 
and  take  this  Tory  stronghold. 

How  right  and  graceful  of  Leeds,  if,  as  they  pro- 
pose, they  elect  Herbert. 

Yours  very  sincerely  and  triumphantly, 

Westminster. 

You  saw  that  Shaftesbury,  too,  had  been  cap- 
tured. 

The  tragedy  of  the  Phoenix  Park  murders 
caused  a  thrill  of  horror  to  go  through  all  classes 
of  society.  The  Prince  of  Wales  wrote  to  Mr. 
Gladstone  expressing  his  deep  emotion  and  the 


Lettets  to  \^tt  167 

Queen  was  no  less  moved.  At  Her  Majesty's  re- 
quest Mrs.  Gladstone  sent  a  portrait  of  Lord  Fred- 
erick Cavendish  to  Windsor. 

FROM  QUEEN  VICTORIA 

Windsor  Castle,  July  18,  1882. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  return  with  many  thanks  the  touching,  sad,  but 
most  peaceful  and  beautiful  portrait  you  have 
kindly  allowed  me  to  see.  It  must  be  very  com- 
forting for  poor  Lucy  ^  to  have  it  to  look  at.  Was 
any  cast  taken  to  enable  a  bust  to  be  made? 

I  send  you  a  photograph  of  myself  taken  in  the 
dress  I  wore  at  Leopold's  wedding.  It  is  much 
liked.  The  veil  and  lace  trimmings  are  the  same 
1  wore  at  my  own  wedding  forty-two  years  ago. 

Prince  Leopold,  Duke  of  Albany,  died  in 
March,  1884.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  in  bad  health  at 
the  time  and  confined  to  his  room. 

FROM  ARCHBISHOP  BENSON 

Lambeth  Palace,  4,  April,  1884. 

My  DEAR  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  have  not  troubled  you  with  letters  while  the 
papers,   happily  accompanied  almost  daily  with 

^Lady  Frederick  Cavendish. 


168  g^t0»  0lali0tone 

commentaries  better  than  the  text  from  those  who 
know,  have  kept  us  informed  of  the  slow  quiet  re- 
pair which  we  hope  is  better  and  sounder  than  a 
sudden  reinstatement.  But  to-day,  when  one's  eyes 
almost  ached  not  to  see  Mr.  Gladstone  in  his  stall 
at  St.  George's,  I  cannot  help  sending  you  one 
word,  not  meant  to  draw  a  moment's  additional 
trouble  from  you,  but  to  assure  you  how  very  beau- 
tiful and  touching  was  the  service  in  which  I  am 
sure  your  hearts  joined. 

The  Queen  was  wonderfully  composed  and 
strong,  though  she  looked  as  if  she  had  wept  sore- 
ly. No  one  can  ever  forget  the  intense  look  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  or  the  way  in  which  he  was  rapt 
in  the  service,  and  his  sudden  kneeling  down  at 
the  head  of  the  grave  when  the  Kyrie  Eleison  be- 
gan. When  he  sent  for  me  afterwards  he  looked 
so  pale  and  as  if  thoughts  other  than  of  earthly 
sorrow  were  with  him. 

The  young  Duchess  was  at  a  private  little  serv- 
ice yesterday  in  the  memorial  chapel,  the  very 
image  of  strong  resignation,  as  the  Dean  told  me. 
And  a  young  officer  said  that  the  little  service  be- 
fore the  body  left  the  vessel  yesterday  was  even 
more  impressive  than  the  wonderful  beauty  and 
power  of  to-day. 


Letters  to  ^er  169 

Everyone  says  the  Foreign  Ambassadors  were 
greatly  impressed. 

In  London  even  poor  cabmen  had  crape  on  their 
whips  in  little  bows.  Surely  England  has  not  done 
with  loyal  love  yet.  Mr.  Gladstone  would  have  so 
entered  into  the  piety  and  strength  and  hope  of  the 
scene  to-day.  Please  no  answer,  I  know  how  busy 
you  are. 

With  sincere  hopes  that  every  day  and  hour  is 
strengthening  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  that  you  are 
well. 

Sincerely  yours  ever, 
Edw.  Cantaur. 

Twelve  years  later  Archbishop  Benson  died  in 
the  Church,  when  visiting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone at  Hawarden  Castle. 

FROM    KING    EDWARD    VII    (when    PRINCE    OF 

WALES) 

Marlborough  House,  April  7th,  1884. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Your  kind  letter  which  reached  me  to-day  has 
deeply  touched  me  and  I  beg  you  and  Mr.  Glad- 
stone to  accept  my  sincerest  thanks  for  your  sym- 
pathy in  the  blow  we  have  sustained.  You  have 
known  us  all  since  our  childhood  and  I  felt  sure 


170  0^r0»  (DlaDStone 

would  feel  for  and  with  us  at  the  sudden  death  of 
our  poor  brother. 

If  his  life  had  been  spared,  he  had  a  brilliant 
career  before  him  ...  it  is  not  for  us  to  murmur. 

The  Queen  and  my  sister-in-law  are  bearing  up 
as  well  as  can  be  expected  in  their  grief. 

With  kind  regards  to  Mr.  Gladstone  who,  I 
trust,  is  now  quite  himself. 

Holman  Hunt  spent  practically  ten  years  work- 
ing on  "The  Triumph  of  the  Innocents,"  of  which 
there  are  two  pictures,  at  Liverpool  and  Birming- 
ham. 

FROM  HOLMAN  HUNT 

Draycott  Lodge,  Fulham. 

Aug.,   1884. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  trust  that  you  will  not  allow  the  request  that  I 
venture  to  make  in  this  note  to  hamper  you  in  your 
many  serious  duties  in  the  slightest  degree  unless 
with  the  wonderful  power  Mr.  Gladstone  has  of 
relieving  his  mind  from  his  heavy  responsibilities 
you  think  that  the  honour  of  a  visit  from  him  to 
my  Studio  would  be  a  wholesome  and  practicable 
relaxation. 

The  picture  which  it  would  be  a  great  gratifica- 


JLettet0  to  5)et  I7l 

tion  to  me  to  show  both  to  you  and  to  him  is  one 
that  I  painted  in  Jerusalem  some  seven  years  since, 
but  owing  to  the  canvas  being  bad  I  was  unable 
to  bring  the  work  to  a  conclusion  without  repeat- 
ing it  on  another  canvas  which  has  been  a  very 
trying  task.  It  is  now  so  nearly  finished  that  it 
would  be  a  disappointment  to  me  to  put  off  till  you 
return  to  town  this  application  which  I  will  con- 
fess I  have  kept  in  reserve  as  one  of  the  pleasures 
to  be  earned  by  bringing  my  task  to  an  end.  The 
picture  is  an  imaginary  incident  of  the  flight  into 
Egypt  and  it  will  be  entitled  "The  Triumph  of 
the  Holy  Innocents." 

I  will  gladly  be  at  my  Studio  any  time  on  Satur- 
day that  you  might  be  able  to  appoint. 

The  news  of  General  Gordon's  death  was  re- 
ceived in  England  on  February  5,  1885,  and  on 
February  23  Sir  Stafford  Northcote  moved  a  vote 
of  censure  on  the  Government.  The  final  debate 
took  place  on  February  27  and  the  division  was 
taken  at  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  28th. 
The  result  was  a  narrow  majority  of  fourteen  for 
the  Government  against  whom  forty  Irish  mem- 
bers had  seized  the  opportunity  to  vote  although 
not  sympathising  with  the  view  of  the  opposition. 


172  g^r0.  (fi5lad0tone 

FROM  G.  W.  E.  RUSSELL 

House  of  Commons,  27th  Feb.,  1885. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  fear  you  must  be  feeling  sad  and  anxious  about 
to-night.  And,  though  I  can  do  no  good,  I  feel  im- 
pelled to  write  you  one  line  of  true  and  loyal  sym- 
pathy. 

Even  if  the  worst  happens,  it  will  only  be  be- 
cause Mr.  Gladstone  preferred  duty  to  inclination, 
and  stayed  on  when  he  might  have  gone  out  in  a 
blaze  of  triumph.  His  fame  is  assured  for  all  time, 
and  no  passing  reverses  can  affect  it. 

Never,  I  think,  were  you  so  encompassed  with 
the  love  and  trust  of  his  real  followers:  and  I  per- 
sonally should  be  the  basest  of  the  base  if  I  did  not, 
at  this  dispiriting  moment,  make  a  special  acknowl- 
edgment of  my  gratitude  and  veneration. 

The  Afghan  boundary  dispute  in  the  early  part 
of  1885  occasioned  grave  fears  of  a  war  with  Rus- 
sia, but  in  May  Mr.  Gladstone  was  able  to  an- 
nounce that  a  settlement  had  been  arrived  at. 

FROM  SIR  ARTHUR  GORDON,  LORD  STANMORE 

Queen's  Cottage,  Onwara  Eliya, 

i8.3.'85. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  began  our  "Pembroke  Castle"  cruise,  positive- 


Letter0  to  f^tt  173 

ly  by  actually  disliking  Miss  Tennant.^  I  ended  it, 
liking  her  very  much  and  thinking  highly  of  her. 
I  am  really  growing  old  now,  and  am  in  feelings 
much  older  than  my  fifty-five  years  would  war- 
rant, for  I  have  from  my  youth  lived  entirely  with 
people  older  than  myself  and  made  most  of  my 
more  intimate  friends  among  them.  I  have  con- 
sequently a  liking  for  les  manieres  d'autrefois 
which  is  not  too  often  gratified  nowadays.  I  must 
say  I  think  well-bred  women  thirty  or  forty  years 
ago  had  quieter,  more  refined  and  really  polished 
ways  than  the  young  women  of  the  present  day 
boast  of,  and  were  in  consequence  all  the  more 
agreeable  to  live  with. 

I  heard  with  much  regret  of  Sir  Robert  Philli- 
more's  death.  He  had  not  of  late  been  so  much 
or  so  closely  associated  with  you  as  was  the  case 
some  years  ago,  but  he  was  still  one  of  the  most 
true  and  faithful  personal  friends  of  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. 

I  see  an  early  dissolution  spoken  of.  Aberdeen 
is  to  have  two  members.  I  wonder  if  they  would 
take  me  as  one? 

*Miss  Laura  Tennant,  afterwards  Mrs.  Alfred  Lyttelton.  The 
"Pembroke  Castle"  trip  was  taken  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  in 
1883;  Sir  Donald  Currie  was  host  and  Tennyson  was  one  of  the 
guests.  In  Copenhagen  harbour  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  hostess  to  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  of  Russia,  the  King  and  Queen  of  Greece,  the 
King  and  Queen  of  Denmark,  the  Princess  of  Wales  and  many  others. 
(See  Some  Hawarden  Letters.). 


174  ait0»  <^laD0tone 

What  crowds  of  events  in  the  political  world 
and  what  important  and  exciting  ones!  I  shall  lose 
something  of  my  faith  if  it  be  possible  that  a  war 
should  result  from  the  discussions  with  Russia- 
discussions  which  appear  to  me  to  be  eminently  of 
a  nature  for  settlement  by  amicable  negotiation. 
But  on  the  whole,  such  a  result  seems  to  me  to  be 
impossible,  for  there  is  not  sufficient  reason  for  it. 
I  do  not  forget,  however,  that  the  Crimean  War 
seemed  equally  impossible  and  that  Mr.  Gladstone 
cannot  be  more  averse  to  War  than  my  father  was. 
But  there  is  this  enormous  difference  in  the  situa- 
tion— that  Mr.  Gladstone  has  no  party  intriguings 
against  him  in  his  own  Cabinet  and  that  the  nego- 
tiations are  directly  carried  on  between  two  pow- 
ers only,  instead  of  indirectly  and  with  half  a 
dozen,  as  in  1854.  This  is  all  in  favour  of  a  peace- 
ful issue. 

Though  we  are  in  the  tropics,  it  is  quite  cold  up 
here — frost  at  nights — fires  in  all  our  rooms — and 
a  garden  before  the  house  with  none  but  English 
flowers  in  it. 

I  remain, 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

A.  Gordon. 


Letters  to  l^er  175 

On  her  daughter's  dangerous  illness. 
FROM  G.  W.  E.  RUSSELL 

Woburn,  Nov.  4,  1886. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Lady  Stepney's  letter  just  received  has  caused 
us  such  joy  that  my  Father  desires  me  to  write  at 
once,  on  his  behalf  as  well  as  my  own,  to  say  how 
very  thankful  and  happy  we  are,  for  Mrs.  Drew's 
sake  and  for  yours. 

There  is  no  happiness  on  earth  like  the  escape 
from  fear,  and  God's  mercy  seems  to  shine  more 
brightly  when  one  has  just  emerged  from  a  cloud. 

That  you  have  been  allowed  so  to  emerge,  and 
again  to  feel  and  see  the  light,  is  indeed  an  un- 
speakable mercy. 

The  split  which  occurred  In  the  Liberal  Party 
over  Home  Rule  is  a  matter  of  history.  Some  of 
Mr.  Gladstone's  followers  like  the  Duke  of  Argyll 
and  the  Duke  of  Westminster  expressed  their  dis- 
sent from  the  new  policy  in  various  ways  but 
through  all  their  attachment  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gladstone  was  maintained  and  their  admiration 
undiminished. 


176  g^r0*  (^laD0tone 

FROM  JOHN  BRIGHT 

Euston  Hotel,  June  i,  1886. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Your  invitation  is  very  kind  and  I  wish  I  could 
freely  accept  it — but  at  this  moment,  when  I  am 
driven  into  serious,  but  I  hope  only  temporary  op- 
position to  Mr.  Gladstone  in  connection  with  his 
unfortunate  Irish  policy,  I  feel  as  though  my  com- 
pany at  your  table  could  not  be  as  pleasant  to  you 
or  as  satisfactory  to  myself  as  heretofore.  You  will 
see  that  I  write  frankly,  explaining  precisely  why 
I  will  ask  you  to  excuse  and  forgive  me  if  I  do  not 
join  you  at  dinner  this  evening. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  grieved  I  am  at  the  crisis 
at  which  we  have  arrived,  but  judgment  and  con- 
science must  rule  rather  than  personal  preferences. 
As  for  myself,  if  you  cannot  approve,  I  may  hope 
that  you  will  be  able  to  forgive. 

Believe  me,  very  sincerely  yours, 

John  Bright. 

The  Duchess  of  Argyll  was  taken  suddenly  ill 
at  Lord  Frederick  Cavendish's  house  in  Carlton 
Terrace,  as  Mr.  Gladstone  was  handing  her  in  to 
dinner.  He  carried  her  into  the  study,  her  sons 
and  daughters  were  summoned  and  she  died  in  the 
arms  of  Mrs.  Gladstone. 


Letters  to  ^et  177 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  ARGYLL 

Argyll  Lodge,  Kensington. 

July  29,  1888. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  received  your  kind  letter  on  Friday  just  as  I 
was  starting  for  Tennyson  and  I  could  not  write 
whilst  there. 

Pray  be  sure  that  I  can  never  dislike  anything 
that  you  can  say  to  me.  The  last  sight  I  had  of  my 
dear  one  was  in  your  arms  and  I  think  of  you,  as 
of  Her,  as  "very  woman  of  very  woman"  as  the 
great  Poet  wrote  of  Her  to  me. 

But  there  is  one  thing  I  am  not  sure  that  you 
quite  see — or  at  least,  fully  estimate. 

''The  Doctrine  of  the  Two  Spheres"  is  generally 
easy.  But  it  becomes  more  difficult  in  practice 
when  differences  become  fundamental  with  one 
who  is  not  only  a  Leader,  but  the  only  Leader, 
whose  teaching  is  of  any  power. 

He  can  fire  at  us  as  a  nameless  group.  We  can't 
do  this.  His  words  and  arguments  are  the  only 
ones  worth  considering.  We  can  argue  with  Him 
alone. 

The  alternative  is  to  speak  at  Him:  or  to  speak 
of  Him. 

I  hate  the  first — the  second  is  always  the  most 


178  ^r0*  ©latiistone 

respectful,   but   it   sounds    more   personal.     This 
really  can't  be  helped. 

Pray  also  recollect  how  deeply  this  difference 
cuts  into  life.  Poor  Leinster  died  of  nothing  else. 
He  died  of  a  broken  heart — on  the  Irish  question. 
He  was  a  devoted  Gladstonian  up  to  the  Home 
Rule  move,  was  quite  angry  with  me  on  the  Land 
Question.  But  the  last  move  killed  him.  He  saw 
the  break  up  of  all  he  had  loved  and  lived  for — 
He,  and  His,  for  many  generations. 

Such  things  can't  be  helped — in  great  revolu- 
tions. But  if  the  Revolution  be  not  certainly  for 
the  better,  they  are  sacrifices  which  embitter — and 
are  uncompensated  to  those  who  stand  in  former 
convictions. 

How  very  sad  Evey  Ailsa's  death!  She  was  a 
very  Angel  of  goodness — therefore  we  need  not 
grieve. 

I  found  Tennyson  weak  physically,  but  writing 
new  Poems  as  full  of  force  and  of  pathos  and 
beauty  as  ever. 

Yours  affectionately, 
Argyll. 


Letters  to  ^et  179 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  WESTMINSTER 

Eaton,  June  27,  1892. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  have  only  just  heard  of  this  disgraceful  act  ^  by 

a    disgraceful    Chester  woman   and    I    lament   it 
greatly,  and  only  hope  that  the  annoyance  may  not 

have  been  felt  much  by  Gladstone  and  yourself. 

It  will  have  excited  the  disgust  and  indignation 

of  all  parties. 

Yours  under  all  circumstances, 

Always  affectionately, 

Westminster. 
No  answer! 

Probably  the  most  notable  of  Mr.  Gladstone's 
speeches  delivered  outside  the  House  of  Commons 
was  that  made  at  Bingley  Hall,  Birmingham  in 
1888,  before  an  audience  of  some  18,000  people. 
Public  excitement  was  at  fever  heat  and  probably 
the  only  person  in  Birmingham  who  remained 
calm  was  Mr.  Gladstone  himself,  then  seventy- 
eight  years  of  age.  Indeed,  it  is  remembered  that 
on  the  day  of  the  meeting  when  the  whole  house- 
hold, with  whom  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  were 
staying  was  agog  with  apprehension  and  excite- 
ment at  the  magnitude  of  the  task  before  him,  the 

^  A  woman  in  the  crowd  had  thrown  a  missile  which  hit  Mr.  Glad- 
stone in  the  eye. 


180  ^t^*  (^laDstone 

chief  actor  was  so  deep  in  a  Homeric  discussion  as 
they  stood  in  the  hall  that  it  was  with  great  diffi- 
culty he  was  induced  to  take  his  seat  in  the  car- 
riage which  was  waiting  to  convey  him  to  Bingley 
Hall.  Lord  Morley  has  written  a  vivid  descrip- 
tion of  the  meeting  and  of  the  scene  at  the  close 
— "absolutely  indescribable  and  incomparable, 
overwhelming  like  the  sea." 

FROM  ONE  OF  HIS  COLLEAGUES 

II.  Nov.  1888. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  had  to  leave  Bingley  Hall  as  soon  as  Mr.  Glad- 
stone sat  down  for  I  was  pressed  to  catch  a  train — 
since  then  I  have  hardly  put  pen  to  paper  and  have 
scarcely  thought  of  anything  else. 

He  has  beaten  his  record:  his  own  record! 
There  has  been  nothing  like  it.  I  am  convinced 
from  my  own  observations  and  from  casual  words 
with  odds  and  ends  of  people  I  met  on  railway 
platforms,  that  his  noble  speech  was  heard  all 
through,  by  18,000  people.  He  shames  the  young 
and  is  the  despair  of  the  old. 

I  envy  you  more  than  him.  Our  eyes  sym- 
pathised though  we  could  not  speak.  I  feel  privi- 
leged to  take  something  of  the  same  sort  of  pride 
that  his  family  takes  in  these  performances.     I 


LetteriB!  to  l^er  I8i 

could,  indeed,  have  waited  as  far  as  my  train  was 
concerned,  but  I  wished  the  evening  to  close  for 
me  with  that  splendid  recollection. 

I  am  grateful  to  him  personally  for  the  stimu- 
lating idea  of  that  august  scene,  which  must  have 
been  a  high  incentive  to  every  person  present,  how- 
ever humble,  who  was  interested  in  politics;  and 
on  behalf  of  the  party,  for  an  episode  which  places 
it  in  a  new  light  of  enthusiasm. 

God  bless  you  and  him. 

FROM  J.  T.   DELANE,   EDITOR   OF   THE   TIMES 

lo,  Serjeant's  Inn, 

June  8th. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

When  the  Prime  Minister  on  Wednesday  last 
was  good  enough  to  ask  me  to  dine  with  you  on 
Thursday  next  I  listened  in,  I  hope,  becoming 
wonder  that  one  who  knew  so  much,  should  not 
know  that  Thursday  next  is  Cup  Day  at  Ascot. 

He  promised  me  a  card  and  when  none  came  I 
hoped  it  was  I  and  not  he  who  had  mistaken  the 
day. 

Your  note  "to  remind"  has  dispelled  the  fond 
illusion  and  I  feel  as  Dr.  Manning  might  feel  if 
he  had  accepted  an  invitation  to  a  Ball  on  Good 
Friday. 

Pray  then  intercede  for  me.    I  have  a  large  party 


182  ^rs«  aiaD0tone 

in  my  house  at  Ascot  for  the  Races.  I  expect  at 
least  a  hundred  people,  and  most  of  your  col- 
leagues, to  lunch  there  on  Thursday.  I  had  some 
hope  that  you  yourself  and  Miss  Gladstone  might 
possibly  honour  me  with  your  presence  and  now 
I  find  myself  partly  engaged  to  dine  with  you  in 
London. 

Pray  allow  me  to  defer  the  honour  to  some  other 
occasion  and  forgive  the  rash  assent  of, 

Yours  very  faithfully, 
JNO.  T.  Delane. 

The  laconic  answer  of  Tennyson  to  an  invitation 
to  breakfast. 

FROM  LORD  TENNYSON 

(Undated) 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  am  sorry  that  we  cannot  come  to-morrow,  so 
is  she. 

Ever  yours, 

A.  Tennyson. 

One  wonders  what  the  writer  of  the  following 
letter.  Dr.  Pusey,  would  have  to  say  about  present 
day  fashions! 


Lettet0  to  f^tt  183 

FROM  DR.  PUSEY 

Chale,  I.  of  Wight,  Easter  Tuesday. 

1870. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

My  dear  friend,  your  husband,  tells  me  that  he 
has  shown  you  the  part  of  my  letter  which  relates 
to  the  dress  of  the  upper  class  of  society  and  that 
if  I  had  anything  to  suggest  you  would  be  glad 
to  speak  with  me,  whenever  I  should  be  in  town. 

As  I  hear,  there  are  two  classes  of  evil: 

1.  The  extravagance  of  dress. 

2.  Its  character. 

The  first  has  its  special  evil  both  in  preventing 
marriage  (as  so  many  young  men  cannot  afford  to 
marry  such  wives)  and  its  horrible  evils  in  conse- 
quence of  young  wives  not  daring  to  bring  their 
bills  to  their  husbands.  This  I  have  been  told  by 
married  women,  not  by  those  who  were  guilty. 

2.  The  indecency.  And  this,  as  far  as  I  hear, 
is  more  inexcusable  in  the  young  or  middle-aged 
married  women,  because  in  them  it  can  hardly  be 
to  please  their  husbands,  except  so  far  as  a  vain  or 
foolish  husband  from  time  to  time  likes  his  wife 
to  be  an  object  of  admiration  even  at  the  cost  of 
propriety  of  dress.  I  have  heard  of  such  a  case, 
when  the  wife  was  evil  spoken  of  because  the  vain 
husband  liked  her  to  appear  in  this  undress  and 


184  gir$»  aiaD0tone 

surrounded  her  with  the  society  of  men,  probably 
like  himself. 

The  second  will  be  more  easily  withstood  than 
the  first.  For  a  modest  dress  is  really  more  be- 
coming and  more  attractive  than  the  immodest.  I 
mean  as  far  as  attractiveness  is  a  lawful  object  with 
mothers  for  their  daughters.  What  any  men  who 
are  worth  having  for  husbands  are  really  attracted 
by  is  simplicity  and  reality.  I  have  known  cases 
when  persons  without  any  beauty  or  much  sense 
have  been  attractive,  simply  by  their  freshness  and 
simplicity. 

The  difficulty  seems  to  be  to  persuade  the  young 
women  themselves  before  they  have  unlearnt  the 
simplicity  which,  if  unlearnt,  can  only  be  re- 
covered by  the  grace  of  God. 

Yet  I  cannot  but  think  that  something  might  be 
done  to  check  beginnings.  Why  should  fashion  be 
all  in  the  wrong  direction?  Why  should  dress- 
makers have  this  autocracy?  Or  if  they  have  it, 
why  should  their  influence  be  on  the  wrong  side? 
God  has  made  his  own  work  more  beautiful  than 
we  can  unmake  it,  and  it  is  best  set  off  by  that 
which  is  becoming,  i.e.  suited  to  it. 

People  have  learned  the  power  of  union  and 
adopt  it  as  far  as  they  can.  Why  should  not  some- 
thing of  this  sort  be  done  for  God?     We  have 


JLettetjS  to  ^et  185 

plenty  of  associations  for  the  poor.  Why  should 
not  the  good  associate  themselves  for  the  protec- 
tion of  our  young  women,  the  mothers  of  the  future 
aristocracy  of  England,  that  our  young  English 
girls  might  become  again  what  they  were  in  the 
days  of  your  youth.  Thus  if  a  certain  number  of 
ladies,  into  whose  houses  mothers  would  wish  to 
introduce  their  daughters,  were,  in  issuing  their 
cards  for  an  evening  party,  to  put  (in  French  for 
the  servants'  sakes)  something  to  the  effect,  "It  is 
required  that  ladies  should  not  come  in  very  low 
dress"  or  the  like,  I  should  think  a  counter  tide 
of  fashion  might  set  in. 

However,  you,  who  live  in  society  can  under- 
stand how  everything  is  to  be  done  for  it,  better 
than  I  who  live  out  of  it.  But  I  feel  sure  that 
something  could  be  done  if  those  who  can  influence 
it  do  not  look  upon  it  as  a  hopeless  evil  and  so 
let  the  flood  sweep  on  which  is,  one  fears,  sweeping 
so  many  to  perdition. 

I  wish  also  something  could  be  done  as  to  not 
inviting  those  persons  whom  people  court  also  for 
their  rank,  but  of  whom  charity  itself  can  think 
no  present  good,  but  can  only  hope  that  they  may 
be  converted. 

Of  course  there  will  be  obloquy  and  ridicule; 
nothing  good  is  ever  done  which  is  not  spoken 


\SQ  q^r0«  aiaD0tone 

against.  But  you  will  have  people's  consciences, 
their  better  feelings,  their  better  selves,  and  God 
on  your  side,  in  setting  yourself  against  this  tide 
of  evils;  and  you  w^ill  find,  I  doubt  not,  as  we  did, 
when  we  began  the  Tracts  for  the  Times,  that 
many  will  range  themselves  on  the  right  side  as 
soon  as  a  decided  stand  is  made,  who  before  stood 
loitering  about  choosing  neither. 

God  prosper  you. 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

J.  B.  PUSEY. 

The  visit  to  Italy  foreshadowed  in  the  next  let- 
ter duly  took  place,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  stay- 
ing at  Naples  and  there  Lord  Dufferin  visited 
them.  "I  went,"  he  aftervv-ards  told  their  daugh- 
ter, "thinking  I  could  give  Mr.  Gladstone  valuable 
information  concerning  Egypt  and  India,  but 
found  he  knew  more  about  them  than  I  did." 

FROM  LORD  DUFFERIN 

Viceroy's  Camp,  Lahore, 

Nov.  i6,  '88. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  had  such  a  nice  letter  from  Mr.  Gladstone, 
and  now  you  have  been  good  enough  also  to  write 
to  me  which  is  very  like  old  times. 

And  now  about  Rome.     I  cannot  conceive  any 


Letters  to  ^er  187 

circumstances  in  which  you  and  Mr.  Gladstone 
would  not  be  welcome  at  the  Embassy,  or  in  which 
I  could  not  contrive  somehow  to  make  you  com- 
fortable ;  but  I  must  admit  that  next  January  would 
be  a  less  propitious  date  than  I  could  desire,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  we  do  not  ourselves  get  to 
Rome  until  the  third  or  fourth  of  that  month,  and 
that  the  house  is  described  as  being  so  dilapidated 
and  destitute  of  furniture  that  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren, after  staying  for  a  few  days,  as  at  present 
arranged,  in  a  hotel,  go  straight  on  to  England, 
leaving  me  as  a  bachelor  to  do  the  best  I  can  for 
myself  until  the  workmen,  painters  and  upholster- 
ers have  put  the  place  in  order.  But,  in  spite  of 
this  unpromising  state  of  things,  it  would  be  such 
a  pleasure  to  me  to  have  you  and  Mr.  Gladstone 
as  my  guests,  if  you  would  accept  my  bachelor 
hospitality,  that  I  would  ransack  all  the  palaces 
of  the  Roman  Princes  to  make  you  comfortable; 
but  common  honesty  has  driven  me  to  tell  you  the 
exact  truth,  so  that  I  may  not  lure  you  into  uncom- 
fortable lodgings  under  false  pretences.  I  send 
you  a  very  modest  retrospect  of  my  four  years' 
work  in  India,  which  perhaps  Mr.  Gladstone 
might  like  to  glance  over.  I  think  he  will  find 
that  my  Government  has  done  more  than  is  gen- 
erally known  or  supposed.    Nobody  but  the  few 


18S  ^t0»  aiaD0tone 

experts  who  have  been  behind  the  scenes  under- 
stand what  a  difficult  time  I  have  had  in  India, 
and  how  many  dangerous  problems  I  have  had  to 
deal  with.  The  fall  in  silver  alone  was  enough  to 
have  upset  the  coach,  and  scarcely  six  months 
passed  without  some  new  trouble  developing  itself, 
but  for  all  that  I  shall  hand  over  India  to  Lord 
Lansdowne  without  a  cloud  on  the  horizon  and 
what  is  still  more  satisfactory  if  only  silver  does 
not  take  another  bad  turn,  in  a  state  of  financial 
equilibrium,  and  that  in  spite  of  Burmah,  Afghani- 
stan, Thibet,  and  the  Black  Mountain. 

With  my  wife's  kindest  regards,  believe  me,  dear 
Mrs.  Gladstone,  Yours  sincerely, 

DUFFERIN  AND  AVA. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  celebrated  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  their  wedding  in  1889. 

FROM  CARDINAL  MANNING 

Archbishop's  House,  Westminster,  S.  W. 

July  23,   '89. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

The  last  time  we  met  you  said,  ''I  do  not  forget 
old  days,"  and  truly  I  can  say  so,  too. 

Therefore,  in  the  midst  of  all  who  will  be  con- 
gratulating you  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  your 
home  life  I  cannot  be  silent. 


o 


o 


K    H 


c/j 

a 

H 

Z 

o 

Q 

O 
H 
en 

S 

a 

C 

*> 

J 

z 

^ 

o 

< 

o 

J 

oJ 
g 

2 

o 

t-H 

K 

a 

< 

a 

>T" 

a 

^ 

« 

1— I 

< 

< 

Cfi 

z 

X 

h" 

H 

a 

y 

o 

tiT 

« 

g 

M 

D    00 

w^ 

V5 

o    '-' 

o 

^ 

t-H 

^ 

H 

X 

O 

H 

< 

a 
a 

f^ 

k-J 

z 

« 

> 

W 

o 

J 

I-; 

:g 

c 

as 

_yi 

< 

o 

O 

'a 

[2h 

oi 

^A 

2 

f^ 

O 

<- 

#v 

H 

"* 

o 

^ 

M 

'Z 

K 

Q 

t-t 

PS 

< 

Q 

Q 

hJ 

< 

O 

H 

• 

« 

»-i 

PS 

^ 

. 

a 

> 

PS 

> 
C 

s 

2 
o 

1-^ 

Q 

< 

< 

i-«-* 

w 
PS 

K 

S 

Letters  to  f^tt  189 

I  have  watched  you  both  out  on  the  sea  of  public 
tumults  from  my  quiet  shore.  You  know  how 
nearly  I  have  agreed  in  William's  political  career; 
especially  in  his  Irish  policy  of  the  last  twenty 
years.  And  I  have  seen  also  your  works  of  charity 
for  the  people  in  which,  as  you  know,  I  heartily 
share  with  you. 

There  are  few  who  keep  such  a  Jubilee  as  yours: 
and  how  few  of  our  old  friends  and  companions 
now  survive. 

We  have  had  a  long  climb  up  these  eighty  steps, 
for  even  you  are  not  far  behind:  and  I  hope  we 
shall  not  "break  the  pitcher  at  the  fountain."  I 
wonder  at  your  activity  and  endurance  of  weather. 

May  every  blessing  be  with  you  both  to  the  end. 
Believe  me,  always. 
Yours  afifectionately, 

Henry  E.  Card.  Manning. 

FROM  THE  EMPRESS  FREDERICK 

Villa  Zirio,  Feb.  8,  1888. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Pray  accept  my  best  thanks  for  your  kind  letter 
expressing  so  many  wishes  for  the  Crown  Prince's 
recovery  from  this  trying  and  protracted  illness. 
We  trust  and  hope  they  may  all  be  fulfilled.  The 
outlook  is  no  longer  as  gloomy  for  us  as  it  was  in 


190  QPt0»  aiaDStone 

November  and  this  is  a  great  comfort  for  which 
we  are  truly  thankful. 

The  kind  sympathy  of  all  friends  in  England  is 
very  gratifying  to  me. 

Ever  yours, 
Victoria,  Crown  Princess  of  Germany 
AND  Prussia  and  Princess  Royal. 

In  1890  the  Parnell  Divorce  Case  shattered 
men's  hope  of  an  Irish  settlement.  Ever  ready  to 
take  as  its  motto  the  dictum  of  Flaubert  that 
"Nothing  succeeds  like  excess"  the  Irish  party  was 
rent  in  twain  and  the  air  was  filled  with  recrimi- 
nations between  Parnellites  and  Anti-Parnellites. 
On  the  ground  that  he  had  helped  to  depose  their 
leader  some  of  the  former  were  not  slow  to  vilify 
Mr.  Gladstone. 

FROM  PIERCE  MAHONY  (one  who  supported  Parnell) 

House  of  Commons  Library, 

Dec.  8,  '90. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  take  the  liberty  of  expressing  to  you  the  great 
sorrow  it  gives  me  to  appear  even  for  a  time  to  be 
acting  in  opposition  to  Mr.  Gladstone.  In  the 
course  of  the  last  ten  days  expressions  have  been 
used,  in  moments  of  great  excitement  and  passion, 
regarding  Mr.  Gladstone,  which  have  given  me 


JLettet$  to  $)et  X9i 

great  pain.  Whatever  may  occur  in  the  future  I 
think  that  no  expression  will  ever  fall  from  my 
lips  in  any  way  inconsistent  with  the  deepest  re- 
spect for  and  gratitude  to  Mr.  Gladstone.  The 
kindness  you  have  shown  to  me  makes  me  hope 
that  you  will  excuse  me  for  troubling  you  with  this 
letter. 

Believe  me,  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone, 
Yours  sincerely, 

Pierce  Mahony. 

FROM  QUEEN  VICTORIA 

Windsor  Castle,  May  7,  1893. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

Accept  my  best  thanks  for  your  very  kind  letter 
and  congratulations  on  the  betrothal  of  my  dear 
grandson,  George,  with  Princess  Victoria  Mary 
of  Teck  which  gives  me  great  pleasure,  and  which 
I  trust  will  be  the  beginning  of  a  long  life  of  hap- 
piness to  themselves,  and  be  a  blessing  to  their  fam- 
ily and  to  the  country  at  large. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  very  long  time  that  I  have  known 
you.  At  York,  in  '35,  I  saw  the  two  very  beauti- 
ful Miss  Glynnes  and  have  not  forgotten  it.  How 
much  of  weal  and  woe  has  happened  since  that 
time. 


192  Q^rs»  aiaD0tone 

FROM  G.  F.  WATTS 

Little  Holland  House,  Kensington,  W. 

August  4th,  1893. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

My  wife  very  earnestly  desires  to  have  the  hon- 
our, and  she  is  worthy  of  it,  of  shaking  hands  once 
in  her  life  with  Mr.  Gladstone.  Could  this  be 
managed  without  intrusion  upon  time  and  atten- 
tion so  valuable?  I  also  should  like  to  have  the 
same  honour  once  more. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 
G.  F.  Watts. 

The  horror  of  a  tragedy  still  fresh  in  the  minds 
of  everyone  becomes  still  more  poignant  when  one 
glances  back  to  the  time  when  all  was  bright  and 
the  future  seemed  filled  with  every  augury  of  hap- 
piness. Writing  to  Mrs.  Gladstone  in  May,  1894, 
Queen  Alexandra  said,  "Thank  you  a  thousand 
times  for  your  very  kind  letter  of  congratulation 
on  the  engagement  of  my  charming  nephew,  the 
Cesarevitch,  to  Alix  of  Hesse,  dear  Alice's  young- 
est daughter; — they  both  seem  very  happy  and  I 
do  hope  that  this  union  will  be  for  their  mutual 
blessing  and  for  the  welfare  of  our  country,  as  we 
consider  her  half  English,  as  well  as  for  Russia, 
the  land  of  her  adoption." 


Letters  to  5)et  193 

FROM  MARGOT  TENNANT 

Cold  Overton,  Oakham, 

March,  1894. 

Dearest  Aunty  Pussy  : 

I  was  much  touched  by  your  message  to  Mr. 
Asquith. 

I  daresay  I  was  a  little  out  of  spirits  that  night 
at  the  Campbell-Bannermans'  and  I  thought  you 
were  lecturing  me  too  severely,  but  I  am  sure  you 
know  I  value  all  you  say.  I  feel  so  deeply  your 
present  sorrow  of  retiring  from  so  long  and  beau- 
tiful a  public  life;  it  will  be  a  lasting  example  to 
me  in  my  humble  future  to  remember  your  cour- 
age and  devotion. 

God  bless  you  and  your  dear  husband, 
I  am  with  all  my  faults, 

Yours  lovingly, 

Margot  Tennant. 

FROM  SIR  WILLIAM  RICHMOND 

Hammersmith,  April  29,  1896. 

My  DEAR  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  thank  you  for  your  kind  and  affectionate  letter. 
We  all,  one  and  all,  of  us  are  delighted  that  my 
Father's  drawing  has  given  you  pleasure. 

Alas,  youth  only  comes  once  in  a  lifetime  and 
whatever  in  after  life  recalls  it  by  memories,  is 
very  sweet  and  full  of  consolation. 


194  ^ts*  aiaD0tone 

I  have  lately  been  reading  and  sorting  out  old 
letters  of  thirty  years  ago,  with  a  mixture  of  pleas- 
ure and  pain,  but  the  pleasure  on  the  whole  pre- 
dominates, by  the  memory  of  affection  and  love 
which  are  not  dead  but  only  sleep. 

If  Souls  are  permitted  to  meet  in  another  world, 
how  precious  will  be  the  intercourse  sweetened 
and  purified  by  separation. 

Yours,  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone, 
Affectionately, 

W.  B.  Richmond. 

When  on  a  visit  to  Hawarden  in  1896  Arch- 
bishop Benson  died  suddenly  whilst  attending 
service  in  the  Church. 

FROM  THE  DUKE  OF  ARGYLL 

Inveraray,  Argyllshire, 
Oct.  12,  1896. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

One  line  only  to  say  how  much  we  are  all 
shocked  and  grieved  for  you  all  in  this  sad  tragedy 
at  Hawarden.  It  recalls  only  too  vividly  another 
link  in  which  you  were  a  ministering  angel  indeed. 

Yours  afifectionately, 
Argyll. 

Archbishop  Benson  was  so  kind  to  my  son,  Wal- 
ter, when  at  Wellington  College. 


JLetter0  to  ^er  195 

FROM  FREDERIC  HARRISON 

38,  Westbourne  Terrace, 

6th  January   1897. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

May  I  be  suffered  to  join  with  all  your  many 
friends  and  millions  and  millions  of  Englishmen 
in  wishing  you  and  your  husband  all  blessings  in 
the  year  that  we  are  entering? 

It  will  always  be  one  of  the  great  memories  of 
my  life  that  I  have  known  and  conversed  with  one 
who  will  live  so  long  in  the  history  of  our  coun- 
try. 

I  rejoice  to  hear  from  Mr.  J.  Morley  and  Lord 
Rendel  the  best  news  of  the  health  of  you  both. 

FROM  LORD  ROSEBERY 

38,  Berkeley  Square,  W. 

April   5,   1897. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

I  am  distressed  to  read  that  you  have  passed 
through  London  without  my  seeing  you.  I  think 
that  you  and  I  always  understand  each  other,  and 
that  there  is  always  a  silent  bond  of  sympathy  be- 
tween us  riveted  in  the  past.  But  none  the  less  it 
is  pleasant  to  see  each  other  sometimes!  And  I 
should  dearly  have  liked  to  clasp  your  hands  once 
more  after  so  long  an  interval.  But  I  live  in  the 
country  and  only  passed  London  on  my  way  to  Bat- 
tle yesterday,  hoping  to  find  you  to-day. 


196  ^t$*  aiaDstone 

The  girls  are  at  Dresden  till  the  middle  of 
April,  but  the  boys  came  back  at  the  end  of  the 
week.  I  have  been  too  long  a  childless  father. 
Harry  has  shot  up  into  space  like  a  beanstalk,  and 
I  am  ashamed  to  walk  with  him. 

My  love  to  Mr.  Gladstone. 

On  May  19,  1898,  Mr.  Gladstone's  illness  came 
to  a  peaceful  end.  At  5  a.  m.  on  Ascension  Day  he 
passed  away. 

FROM  QUEEN  ALEXANDER 

Sandringham,  Norfolk. 
Whitsunday,  May   29th,   1898. 

Dearest  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  waited  until  now  when  your  beloved  husband 
has  been  laid  to  his  last  resting  place,  before  dar- 
ing to  intrude  on  the  sacredness  of  your  sorrow, 
which  I  fear  surpasses  all  that  words  can  express. 
My  telegram  will,  however,  have  told  you  how  my 
thoughts  and  prayers  have  been  constantly  with 
and  for  you  ever  since  the  sad  and  terrible  news 
of  his  fatal  illness  first  reached  me.  We  are  thank- 
ful to  think  that  after  all  his  sufferings  his  last 
few  days  were  peaceful  and  painless  and  that  his 
longing  and  wish  to  go  to  his  "heavenly  home" 


ILettec0  to  ^et  197 

were  granted  him  on  the  very  day  of  Our  Saviour's 
Ascension.  It  must  be  of  some  consolation  to  you 
also  to  feel  how  the  whole  nation  mourns  with  you 
and  yours  the  loss  of  that  great  and  good  man, 
whose  name  will  go  down  in  letters  of  gold  to 
posterity  as  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  upright,  and 
disinterested  characters  that  has  ever  adorned  the 
pages  of  history.  We  all  individually  grieve  the 
loss  of  a  great  personal  friend  from  whom  we 
have  received  innumerable  kindnesses  which  we 
shall  never  forget.  How  my  whole  heart  went 
out  to  you  during  Saturday's  terrible  ordeal,  when 
I  saw  you  kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  dear  re- 
mains of  him  whom  you  loved  best  on  earth — the 
People's  William  and  your  all. 

I  do  hope  your  poor  health  has  not  suffered 
and  that  the  cross  our  dear  Lord  has  laid  upon 
you  is  not  more  than  you  can  bear — and  that  for 
your  dear  children's  sake  you  will  take  the  great- 
est care  of  yourself.  I  was  so  deeply  touched  by 
your  kind  lines  when  you  thought  there  was  a  ray 
of  hope  left  and  you  may  be  sure  our  visit  to  you 
and  your  beloved  husband  only  one  little  year  ago 
in  your  own  beautiful  home  at  Hawarden,  will 
ever  remain  as  one  of  our  most  precious  and  val- 
ued memories. 


198  Qir0*  aiaDistone 

With  deepest  sympathy  with  you  and  your  chil- 
dren. 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

Alexandra. 

FROM  SIR  WILLIAM  RICHMOND 

Beavor  Lodge,   Hammersmith. 

Oct.  29,   1898. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  return  you  my  most  affectionate  thanks  for  the 
most  precious  and  valuable  memento  which  you 
have  been  so  gracious  as  to  give  me. 

I  assure  you  that  I  regard  your  kindness  with 
gratitude.  It  happens  that  the  Poems  of  Michael 
Angelo  have  been  for  many  years  the  object  of 
my  constant  study;  most  of  them  I  have  translated 
and  I  remember  talking  over  their  many  beauties 
with  Mr.  Gladstone  upon  the  occasion  of  my  last 
walk  with  him  a  very  few  years  ago.  Now,  you 
have  given  me  his  copy  of  those  immortal  works. 
Dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  please  permit  me  to  sub- 
scribe myself, 

Your  grateful  and  affectionate  old  friend, 

W.  B.  Richmond. 

I  am  most  keen  about  the  National  Memorial 
and  desirous  that  the  form  it  takes  from  an  artistic 
point  shall  be  worthy,  beautiful,  and  dignified. 


Letters  to  ^er  199 

FROM  SIR  WILLIAM  HARCOURT 

Malwood,  Lyndhurst, 

Nov.  25,  '98. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  have  received  through  your  Harry  a  most 
precious  gift  of  a  book  which  belonged  to  Mr. 
Gladstone,  as  a  memorial  of  one  whom  I  do  greatly 
love  and  honour  not  more  in  his  public  greatness 
than  in  that  singular  personal  kindness  which  he 
has  ever  bestowed  on  me  and  mine. 

The  Herodotus  is  full  of  the  marks  of  his  read- 
ing so  varied  and  yet  so  exact  and  brings  back  to 
me  at  every  page  his  likeness  as  I  knew  him. 

I  watch  daily  in  my  garden  the  growth  of  the 
walnut  he  planted  here  ten  years  ago,  and  the 
young  ash  tree,  which  will  be  historical  monu- 
ments. 

The  book  will  be  a  precious  heirloom  which 
will  be  treasured  by  my  children's  children,  who 
will  be  proud  to  know  that  I  served  under  such  a 
commander. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  had  spent  the  winter 
of  1866-1867  in  Rome  and  Sir  William  Richmond, 
then  a  young  and  rising  artist,  was  one  of  the 
party. 


200  gir0«  aiaDstone 

FROM  SIR  WILLIAM  RICHMOND 

Jan.  I,  1899. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

You  shall  have  the  picture  very  soon. 
I  grieve  for  you,  dear  Lady.  This  time  of  year 
brings  back  very  sweet  memories  to  me  of  Rome 
in  '67.  How  kind  you  all  were  to  me,  and  what  a 
thing  it  was  for  a  young  fellow  to  be  allowed  to  be 
the  companion  of  your  great  and  noble  husband. 
My  love  to  all  of  you. 

Yours  affectionately, 

W.  B.  Richmond. 

FROM  MRS.  BENSON 

5,  Barton  Street,  Westminster. 
May  16,  1899. 

Dearest  Mrs.  Gladstone: 

I  could  not  tell  you  how  often  and  how  deeply 
you  have  been  in  my  heart  all  these  months,  and 
so  specially  on  Ascension  Day,  and  now. 

The  power  of  anniversaries  comes  to  some  peo- 
ple much  more  fully  than  to  others,  and  I  can't 
help  feeling  that  with  you  (as  with  me)  it  is 
scarcely  possible  for  an  anniversary  to  be  fuller  of 
the  one  thought  and  the  one  love,  than  all  the  other 
days.  O,  it  must  be  so — What  have  anniversaries 
to  do  with  it  when  it  is  the  life  of  one's  life?  Per- 
haps the  feeling  in  the  air  and  the  look  of  every- 


Letters  to  ^er  201 

thing  in  the  trees  and  the  flowers  have  a  certain 
keenness  and  perhaps  they  may  help  in  this  way — ■ 
of  bringing  back  the  fullness  of  the  glory  of  his 
departure  and  of  the  first  days.  For  how  my  heart 
has  ached  for  you  during  these  months!  I  have 
trodden  the  same  weary  road,  and  know  to  the  full 
what  one  could  scarcely  realise  beforehand,  the 
awful  emptiness  the  stagnation,  as  it  seems,  of 
everything,  and  for  a  time  one's  life  has  the  old 
impetus  in  it,  and  then  it  ceases  and  still  the  days 
and  hours  have  to  be  lived  through. 

And,  dear  Friend,  how  I  think  of  you  to-day, 
for  to-day  you  look  off  from  the  present  to  the 
glorious  past  and  to  the  wonderful  future — and  the 
reality  lies  there — for  I  suppose  it  is  in  a  way  one's 
own  impatience  which  makes  any  empty  present 
seem  intolerable — it  is  really  one  with  the  fullest 
of  one's  life,  and  with  the  eternal  crown  of  it  all. 
Oh,  forgive  me  for  such  weak  words.  My  whole 
heart  goes  out  to  you,  for  I  seem  to  know  so  well 
what  there  is  to  bear;  but  there  are  given  such 
wonderful  glimpses  into  the  strength  and  consola- 
tions of  God  even  when  times  are  dryest  that  I 
hope  in  my  soul  you  all  live  in  these — and  to-day 
all  the  perfect  part  must  be  yours  so  specially.  I 
often  wonder  so  what  *'a  year"  means  in  the  eternal 
expression — glory  and  joy  and  growth — anyhow 


202  Qit0»  aiaD0tone 

we  shall  know,  and  that  soon.     May  I  send  my 
deepest  and  most  reverent  love  to  you  and  much 
too  to  Mary,  and  to  Lady  Frederick,  and  remain, 
Your  loving  and  grateful, 

Mary  Benson. 

FROM  LORD  MORLEY 

57,  Elm  Park  Gardens,  South  Kensington. 

May  i8,  1899. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Gladstone  : 

When  you  have  this,  we  shall  all  be  thinking  of 
the  same  mournful  thing.  The  year  has  gone 
quickly  enough,  but  hardly  a  day  has  passed  with- 
out that  great  loss  being  borne  into  my  mind  and 
heart.  We  all  knew  that  it  would  leave  our  lives 
emptier;  but  how  terrible  the  emptiness  would 
often  be  we  could  not  know.  I  do  not  want  to 
write  you  a  letter;  but  only  to  assure  you  of  my 
sincere  affection,  and  of  my  unalterable  attachment 
to  his  memory. 

Always  yours, 

John  Morley. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHARACTERISTICS 

WILLIAM  and  Catherine  Gladstone  were 
indeed  a  striking  pair.  She  carried 
herself  regally,  though  her  movements 
were  swift  and  light.  Her  eyes  were  of  a  deep 
sapphire  blue,  set  well  apart,  long  in  shape  and 
with  a  world  of  meaning,  eyes  that  danced  with 
mischief  or  melted  with  tenderness;  caressing 
eyes,  capable  of  infinite  love,  infinite  merriment. 
There  is  but  one  picture  that  has  her  eyes.  It 
is  one  of  Romney's  most  beautiful  portraits  of 
Lady  Hamilton.  So  strong  is  the  resemblance — 
the  long  laughing  eyes,  the  dark  curly  hair — that 
at  Tabley,  in  the  famous  picture  gallery  where  it 
hangs,  it  used  always  to  be  called  Mrs.  Gladstone. 
She  had  an  abundance  of  thick  brown  hair  that 
waved  softly  upon  her  forehead.  In  figure  she  was 
tall  and  slender  and  her  movements  were  full  of 
dignity  and  charm.  Her  husband  used  to  say,  as 
he  stood  near  the  dais,  at  a  drawing-room  or  Court, 

no  one  approached  the  Queen  with  so  fine  a  car- 

203 


204  ^t$.  aiaD$tone 

riage,  or  courtseyed  with  so  much  grace.  And  this 
was  in  spite  of  great  rapidity,  and  even  careless- 
ness and  indifference  as  to  personal  attire  or  adorn- 
ment. She  was  clothed  as  by  magic.  She  never 
shopped  unless  it  was  to  buy  for  others.  All  she 
wore  was  made  at  home/  She  spared  but  the 
merest  fragment  of  her  time  to  matters  of  dress  or 
ornament.  But  she  responded  in  a  marked  degree 
to  any  beauty  of  material,  or  form,  or  colour;  to  a 
rare  piece  of  old  lace,  to  a  jewel  or  a  flower.  On 
some  women  real  jewels  look  sham,  on  others  sham 
jewels  look  real.  Jewels  looked  their  best  and  most 
brilliant  on  her;  so  did  flowers.  She  always  wore 
a  flower — a  rose  for  choice.  The  first  time  she  ever 
wore  the  blue  velvet,  afterwards  an  almost  his- 
toric gown,  she  happened  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons to  meet  Lord  Hartington.  "The  first  bit  of 
blue  sky  I  have  seen  to-day."  This  anecdote  she 
related  with  much  relish  to  Lady  Edward  Caven- 
dish, his  sister-in-law,  Lord  Hartington  being  un- 
commonly chary  with  his  compliments. 

She  had  a  rare  sympathy  and  understanding. 
As  an  illustration  of  the  tact  that  comes  from  them 
— Soon  after  the  Phcenix  Park  murders  a  certain 
lady  was  continually  alluding  to  Lord  Frederick's 
wife  as  "Lady  Cavendish."    "She  likes  to  be  called 

^  In  her  day  ladies'  maids  were  skilled  dressmakers. 


OS 

K 

■A 
OS 

H 

m 
o 

1-3 


Cl)atacteti0tic$  205 

Lady  Frederick  Cavendish,"  said  Mrs.  Gladstone, 
"because,  you  see,  she  does  so  love  his  name."  In- 
deed she  had  a  unique  capacity  for  putting  herself 
into  other  people's  places,  seeing  with  their  eyes, 
feeling  with  their  emotions,  suffering  or  rejoicing 
with  them.  At  evening  parties  and  balls  all  her 
pity  would  go  out  to  the  tired  attendants  in  the 
cloakroom,  the  footmen  and  link-boys  outside,  the 
poor  little  patient  crowd  on  the  pavement,  waiting 
for  a  chance  glimpse  of  jewels  or  fine  clothes,  a 
gleam  of  light,  or  a  strain  of  far-ofif  music,  con- 
tent with  the  fragments  of  a  feast  they  would  never 
share. 

She  was  a  great  person  for  sharing.  Mr.  Glad- 
stone used  to  smile  as  he  declared  that  she  was 
born  without  the  sense  of  property.  It  amused  him 
to  call  her  a  pickpocket.  "You  forgot  to  tell  me," 
he  once  wrote,  "for  what  cause  you  picked  so-and- 
so's  pocket?"  He  used  to  chafif  her  mercilessly  on 
her  mistakes;  occasionally  some  tragic  mishap  as 
to  inviting  the  wrong  person,  or  failing  to  send  a 
carriage  to  meet  a  guest.  Hawarden  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  possess  half  a  dozen  stations,  which 
contributed  not  a  little  to  these  disasters.  But  once 
at  Penmaenmawr,  when  a  missing  purse  was 
actually  found  in  her  own  pocket,  after  she  had 
indignantly  denied  it,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  her 


206  9^t$*  i^laDstone 

utter  discomfiture,  and  the  delight  of  the  on- 
lookers. She  had  entered  a  Post  Office  to  buy 
stamps;  a  labouring  man  made  way  for  her,  leav- 
ing his  purse  on  the  counter.  Her  business  ac- 
complished, she  mechanically  swept  his  purse  into 
her  own  pocket.  Her  piratical  onslaughts  on  the 
purses  and  possessions  of  her  relations  and  friends 
in  the  cause  of  charity  were  a  constant  amusement 
and  alarm  to  them  all.  She  was  really  a  Com- 
munist at  heart;  she  could  never  enjoy  anything 
by  herself;  it  must  be  shared  by  the  few  or  the 
many — the  whole  world  if  possible.  She  never 
had  so  many  claims  that  she  would  not  undertake 
a  fresh  one;  she  never  had  so  many  homes  depend- 
ing on  her  that  she  was  not  ready  for  a  new  ven- 
ture. She  hardly  spent  anything  on  herself;  she 
was  generally  overdrawn.  She  would  give,  if  need 
be,  anything  off  her  own  person.  Nobody  was  so 
ragged,  so  friendless,  so  wretched,  that  she  would 
not  succour  or  save. 

One  day  going  to  her  Convalescent  Home  at 
Woodford,  she  was  quickly  so  absorbed  in  the  piti- 
ful tale  of  a  fellow-traveller  quite  unknown  to  her 
that  she  forgot  to  alight  at  her  own  station,  and 
had  to  borrow  from  the  poor  lady  to  enable  her 
to  get  back  to  her  destination.  That  night  at  a 
dinner  party  she  collected  sixty  or  seventy  pounds. 


Clbaracteri0tfc0  207 

and  having  asked  the  lady  to  visit  her  next  day, 
was  able  to  get  her  a  passage  to  Australia,  so  sav- 
ing her  a  separation  from  her  husband.  (The  said 
husband  was  highly  sceptical  of  his  wife's  story — 
"Well,  you  have  been  taken  in — the  idea  of  Mrs. 
Gladstone  travelling  third  class  and  without  any 
money!  I  shall  come  with  you  and  wait  outside 
the  house.") 

Many  and  many  instances  crowd  in  upon  the 
memory,  but  this  anecdote  will  suffice  to  show  her 
abounding  sympathy,  and  the  consummate  ease 
with  which  she  leapt  over  difficulties  that  would 
have  checkmated  anyone  else.  "For  I  was  an  hun- 
gered and  ye  gave  me  meat;  I  was  thirsty  and  ye 
gave  me  drink;  I  was  a  stranger  and  ye  took  me 
in;  I  was  in  prison  and  ye  came  unto  me."  Could 
any  words  more  fitly  describe  her? 

She  would  get  more  into  one  crowded  hour  than 
most  people  would  into  a  day.  She  would  be  in 
the  East  End  of  London  at  one  moment  and,  so  to 
speak,  at  the  House  of  Commons  the  next — no 
motor,  bus,  or  car,  or  taxi  in  those  days.  On  foot, 
by  underground,  cab,  or  carriage,  she  performed 
these  weary  journeys.  Often  dead  tired,  and  with 
a  final  climb  of  eighty-six  steps  to  the  Ladies'  Gal- 
lery (no  lift  in  those  days),  yet  somehow  or  other, 
alive  or  dead,  she  usually  contrived  to  be  in  her 


208  ®r0«  (DlaDsitone 

corner  when  her  husband  was  going  to  speak. 
Unpunctual  by  nature,  she  never  kept  him  wait- 
ing, realising  the  value  of  the  few  moments  more 
or  less.  Ever  at  his  side  on  all  important  or  anx- 
ious occasions,  she  contrived  to  keep  the  manifold 
activities  and  businesses  of  her  own  life  subordi- 
nate to  his.  A  carriage  at  a  moment's  notice,  her 
own  or  anybody  else's,  always  available  for  his 
needs;  meals  ready  at  any  and  every  minute  that 
he  might  escape  from  the  House  (it  made  heavier 
demands  on  its  Members  in  those  days) .  Astute  at 
warding  off  bores  or  toadies,  or  tiresome  or  tiring 
people,  she  saw  through  them  quickly;  she  would 
put  in  her  word  or  sign  of  warning,  long  before 
his  guileless  nature  had  detected  anything  below 
the  surface.  He  could  always  be  deceived,  for, 
like  Lord  Melbourne,  "he  had  a  habit  of  believ- 
ing people,"  and  not  only  believing  people  but 
believing  i?i  people.  He  judged  others  by  his  own 
standards,  and  as  was  once  said  of  him  by  a  famous 
contemporary  historian,  "he  did  not  always  make 
bull's  eyes."  She  was  far  more  acute  In  her  judg- 
ment of  character.  She  would  have  made  a  good 
general.  She  husbanded  her  resources,  she  never 
wasted  powder,  and  she  knew  how  to  dispose  of 
her  materials  to  the  best  advantage.  She  was  a 
strategist  of  the  first  order  and  was  a  woman  of 


Cl)atactcti$tic0  209 

infinite  courage  and  resource.  She  was  impatient 
of  routine,  of  control;  she  loved  adventure;  she 
rose  to  the  call,  whatever  it  might  be;  she  lived  in 
every  fibre  of  her  being.  She  drank  eagerly  of  all 
that  life  had  to  ofifer.  "Nothing  venture,  nothing 
have."  She  might  have  been  the  author  of  that 
proverb. 

''You  felt  her  splendid  intuition,  her  swift  mo- 
tions, the  magic  of  her  elusive  phrases,  her  rapid 
courage,  her  never-failing  fund  of  sympathy,  her 
radiance,  her  gaiety  of  heart,  her  tenderness  of 
response."  ^ 

No  matter  w^here  she  was  or  where  she  went, 
nothing  could  remain  dull  or  stupid.  "Her  pres- 
ence brought  an  atmosphere,"  said  Mr.  George 
Russell,  "a  climate  with  it,  all  brightness,  fresh- 
ness, like  sunshine  and  sea  air." 

She  somehow  always  seemed  to  raise  the  tem- 
perature of  a  room,  morally  and  physically, 
whether  full  of  bored,  stodgy  grown-ups,  or  shy 
self-conscious  boys  and  girls,  or  sick  people  in  a 
Hospital  Ward.  By  the  magic  touch  of  her  per- 
sonality she  woke  them  up,  made  them  laugh  or 
sing  or  dance.  She  set  things  going;  she  made 
things  happen;  she  got  things  done.  While  her 
love  and  pity  were  all-enfolding,  her  gaiety,  the 

*Rev.  H.  S.  Holland. 


210  Q^r0,  (©laD0tone 

airy  grace  of  her  movements  were  all  infectious. 
Katharine  Lyttelton  remembers,  in  her  young  days, 
the  sense  of  comfort  and  capacity  she  gave: 

''Children  felt,  especially  in  times  of  anxiety  or 
distress,  that  somebody  had  arrived  who  was  going 
to  help,  to  solve  difficulties,  to  light  up  the  road, 
and,  incidentally,  to  make  fun  for  all  concerned. 
She  radiated  tenderness." 

Katharine's  sister.  Lady  Lovelace,  continues: 

"At  such  dark  times,  dear  Aunty  Pussy  would 
come  as  a  fresh  breeze  in  summer,  bringing  life 
and  courage  to  old  and  young.  I  can  hear  now 
the  gay  voice  at  the  door,  before  she  had  turned 
the  handle,  'Well,  darlings!'  and  I  see  her  come 
in  with  arms  outstretched  into  which  we  all  tum- 
bled. And  she  would  sit  among  us  and  laugh  and 
joke  and  tell  us  stories,  all  in  her  queer  humourous 
family  slang,  which  has  been  immortalised  by  her 
brother-in-law.  And  all  the  time  we  could  see  the 
tears  in  her  beautiful  eyes,  and,  young  as  we  were, 
we  knew  that  it  was  because  she  felt  to  her  heart's 
core  that  she  was  making  us  merry." 

As  to  her  genius  in  the  sick  room  one  of  her 
nieces  ^  writes: 

"Few  people  have  possessed  a  finer  instinct  in 
illness  than  Aunty  Pussy,  added  to  a  quiet  heroic 

'Lavinia  Lyttleton   (Mrs.  E.  S.  Talbot). 


Cf)aractetf0tic0  21 1 

unselfishness  in  devoting  herself  in  a  sick-room 
where  she  knew  she  was  really  wanted,  or  where 
her  deep  mother's  love  for  one  of  her  belongings 
brought  her  to  the  bedside." 

So  it  was  in  May's  long  pathetic  illness  in  Jan- 
uary, 1875.  Directly  she  realised  the  nature  of  the 
illness,  she  pushed  aside  family,  social,  political 
engagements  and  what  was  the  greatest  sacrifice  of 
all,  left  her  husband  at  one  of  the  most  anxious  mo- 
ments of  his  political  life. 

"I  shall  never  forget  what  she  was  to  us  at  Hag- 
ley  during  the  nine  weeks  of  May's  ^  almost  hope- 
less illness.  The  mere  fact  of  her  presence  in  the 
room  meant  so  much,  with  her  inspiriting  ways 
and  tone  of  voice.  She  had  moreover  an  unusual 
instinct,  quick  and  unerring  in  detecting  symp- 
toms and  changes,  whether  bad  or  good,  and  we 
relied  on  her  judgment  and  accurate  recognition 
of  the  true  state  of  things.  She  was  full  of  re- 
sourcefulness in  little  things,  often  going  beyond 
the  doctors,  and  her  tender,  patient  watchfulness 
never  failed. 

"She  encouraged  and  inspired  the  nurses,  fasci- 
nated and  impressed  the  doctors — she  supplement- 
ed them  all.  I  remember  seeing  her  on  the  bed 
for  hours,  in  a  tiring  strained  attitude,  helping  to 

'Mary  Lyttleton,  3rd  daughter  of  Lord  Lyttleton. 


212  ®t0*  aiaDgtone 

keep  an  Ice-bag  exactly  in  the  right  position  on 
the  head  of  the  patient.  And  she  was,  what  is  per- 
haps rarer,  wise  and  careful  in  garnering  up  her 
own  strength  as  well  as  that  of  those  sharing  the 
watching,  and  no  one  knew  better  how  to  have  a 
real  rest. 

''Then  her  fun — never  very  far  off — seeing  the 
humorous  side  of  things  even  in  deepest  anxiety, 
giving  such  racy  accounts  of  her  experiences,  and 
^  such  true  ones,  too,  both  in  talk  and  in  writing. 

"And  when  the  end  drew  near  and  we  knew  our 
darling  May  was  not  to  stay  with  us,  there  shone 
out  from  her  what  was  indeed  present  all  through 
— her  beautiful  submission  and  strong  faith  and 
certainty  that  we  were  in  the  hands  of  a  loving 
Father;  while  sharing  it  so  deeply  she  helped  us 
to  face  the  overwhelming  grief  of  that  young 
death,  by  her  tender  love  and  brave,  Christian 
bearing." 

A  characteristic  anecdote  will  not  come  amiss 
illustrative  of  her  resourcefulness,  her  husband's 
unsuspiciousness.  It  was  one  winter  in  the 
Eighties,  at  a  time  when  Irish  troubles  and  threat- 
ening letters  obliged  the  Home  Office  to  appoint 
detectives  to  shadow  Mr.  Gladstone.  He  and 
Mrs.  Gladstone  and  their  daughter  Helen  were  to 


CljatacteristiciQ!  2X3 

dine  and  sleep  at  Soughton  Hall/  a  neighbouring 
country  house.  An  hour  or  so  before  the  hour 
fixed  for  starting,  word  came  from  the  stables  that 
the  coachman  had  injured  his  hand  too  badly  for 
him  to  drive.  No  one  else  could  be  trusted  to  drive 
the  rather  fresh  pair  of  horses.  The  only  fly  in 
the  village  had  been  requisitioned  by  the  detec- 
tives. What  was  to  be  done?  Lord  and  Lady 
Aberdeen  were  staying  at  the  Castle  and  quickly 
Mrs.  Gladstone  and  Lord  Aberdeen  cut  the  Gor- 
dian  knot.  The  latter  would  drive,  it  was  dark  so 
Mr.  W.  H.  Gladstone  would  play  the  part  of  foot- 
man, sit  on  the  box,  show  him  the  way,  return  with 
him  to  Hawarden.  Mr.  Gladstone  in  the  inno- 
cence of  his  heart  hunted  for  his  guest  to  bid  him 
good-bye.  Lady  Aberdeen  played  the  game, 
joined  in  the  hunt  and  finally  made  his  excuses, 
and  took  the  farewell  message.  They  drove  off 
and  the  following  day  the  favourite  little  German 
maid,  who  was  inside  the  carriage  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gladstone  and  their  daughter,  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  it  to  Lady  Aberdeen; 

"Not  many  yards  beyond  the  Castle  gate,  some- 
how the  question  arose  about  carriage  coming 
back.     'But  the  carriage  puts  up  at  Soughton?' 

^The  home  of  the  Rt.  Hon.  Lord  Justice  Sir  J.  Eldon  Bankes. 


214  q^t0.  (©laD0tone 

*No,  dear,  I  thought  It  best  for  you  to  return  to- 
morrow in  the  Victoria.'  'How  is  that? — a 
strange  thing  to  change  plans.'  'Oh,  Mama,  you'd 
better  tell  Father  the  truth.'  'Very  well,  now 
we're  safe  on  the  way — ^we  have  had  the  most 
bothering  affair.'  "  She  then  explains  to  him  the 
whole  contretemps,  as  interpreted  by  the  maid  in 
the  most  racy  language.    "  'But  where  is  Zadock?' 

"  'Oh,  don't  bother  yourself,  Father,  it  will  be 
all  right.' 

"Mr.  Gladstone  having  gradually  looked  at  the 
thing  with  merry  eyes,  burst  out  laughing,  and  a 
most  joyous  glee  took  place.  The  carriage  was 
jogging  along  slow  but  sure,  lodge  past,  a  stray  gate 
arrived,  and  suddenly  a  figure  flew  past  carriage 
window  and  Mr.  Gladstone  called  out,  'Why, 
there  is  Zadock  opening  the  gate'  (Mr.  Glad- 
stone's valet).  'Most  extraordinary  proceedings, 
we  must  be  in  fairy  land.'  Another  glee  took  place, 
the  door  of  House  was  reached,  Mr.  W.  H.  Glad- 
stone, footmanlike,  jumped  down  from  box  and 
put  the  luggage  inside  front  door.  Alas,  the  de- 
lightful Wonderland  came  to  an  end.  Had  I 
known  I  was  to  write  this  I  would  have  had  pencil 
and  paper  in  carriage. 

Your  Ladyship's  humble 

AUGUSTE  SCHLUTER. 


Cl)aracteti0tic0  215 

The  letter  in  full  cleverly  gives  the  character- 
istics of  the  three  inmates  of  the  carriage,  so  that 
each  is  unmistakable,  though  the  writer  gives  no 
names. 

Early  in  their  married  life  her  husband  gave 
Mrs.  Gladstone  the  choice  between  knowing  all  or 
nothing.  It  will  easily  be  guessed  that  she  made 
the  choice  which  gave  her  most  share  in  his  life. 
He  told  her  everything — Lord  Harcourt,  the  Lou- 
lou  of  those  days,  who  knew  her  really  intimately, 
makes  the  following  comment  in  a  letter:  ''Her 
discretion  as  to  public  secrets,  of  which  she  knew 
all,  was  really  extraordinary.  She  was  willing,  if 
necessary,  to  allow  herself  in  conversation  to  ap- 
pear almost  a  fool,  in  order  to  conceal  the  fact  of 
her  knowledge."  A  good  judge  remarked  that 
there  was  an  unmistakable  element  of  greatness  in 
her  character,  which  justified  the  name  by  which 
she  was  known  in  intimate  circles,  the  "grande 
dame." 

Her  energy,  her  spirit,  were  almost  super- 
human, but  she  was  capable  of  absolute  repose. 
She  would  lie  down  quietly  upon  the  sofa,  as  if 
she  had  not  a  duty  or  a  care  in  the  world,  and  fall 
into  profound  sleep  for  a  few  minutes.  There  was 
a  singular  beauty  and  charm  in  her  look  and  pose 
as  she  lay  sleeping — the  wavy  hair,  the  slightly 


216  ^10*  aiati0tone 

parted  lips,  the  look  of  utter  peace — and  she  would 
wake  up  as  a  new  being,  absolutely  rested  and  re- 
freshed. 

If  within  the  bounds  of  possibility,  she  never 
deviated  from  this  rule  of  lying  down  to  rest  before 
dinner.  In  the  multifarious  energies  of  her  life 
she  found  this  habit  a  really  marvellous  pick-me- 
up.  Sometimes  for  an  hour's  sleep,  often  for  ten 
or  five  minutes  only.  How  she  could  endure  the 
torture  of  the  sudden  enforced  awakening — some- 
times at  the  last  gasp  of  fatigue — is  only  to  be  ex- 
plained by  the  self-control  she  had  acquired  in  all 
matters  that  touched  her  husband,  by  the  rigidity 
of  her  rule  never  to  keep  him  waiting  even  for  a 
moment.  From  the  deepest,  dreamless  sleep  up 
she  would  leap,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time 
she  would  appear,  like  Cinderella  at  the  touch  of 
the  fairy  wand,  in  her  evening  attire — wreathed, 
shod,  gloved,  jewelled,  to  delight  the  eyes  of  the 
long-suffering  foreign  maid  ^  and  of  any  who 
chanced  to  see  her. 

She  had  no  mind  or  patience  for  intricate  ques- 
tions, or  the  details  of  history,  or  science,  or  theol- 
ogy.   These  she  disposed  of  as  "red  tape." 

"She  contrived,"  writes  Lady  Lovelace,  "to  com- 

^"We  had  no  time,"  she  said.     "Mrs.  Gladstone  just  jumped  into 
her  clothes." 


Cf)acacteti0tic0  217 

bine  the  keenest  interest  and  quick  apprehension 
of  all  that  concerned  her  husband's  career,  with 
the  most  unashamed  boredom  with  politics  in  gen- 
eral. If  her  respect  for  his  opinions  bordered  on 
veneration,  she  could  not  always  restrain  an  imp- 
ish desire  to  interrupt  the  expression  of  them. 
At  the  dinner  table  there  was  sure  to  be  someone 
who  would  do  his  best  to  draw  out  the  greatest 
statesman  of  the  day  upon  some  serious  subject, 
and  when  we  were  all  rather  drooping  under  the 
consideration  of  how  to  compensate  the  Irish 
Clergy,  or  how  to  deal  electorally  with  the  Com- 
pound Householder,  it  was  to  her  that  we  looked 
for  relief.  And  sure  enough,  sooner  or  later,  with 
a  rapid  wink  at  the  youngest  of  us,  she  would  dart 
into  some  interstice  of  the  conversation  with  a 
comic  remark,  or  bit  of  refreshing  gossip,  which 
brought  an  instant  change  of  atmosphere." 

There  were  some  who  were  impatient  of  these 
interruptions,  however  comic  and  clever,  but  her 
husband  was  always  understanding  and  sym- 
pathetic, looking  at  her  with  an  amused  twinkle 
in  his  eyes,  what  she  called  in  one  of  her  letters 
"that  happy  wicked  look."  And  if  it  really  mat- 
tered, she  had  an  instinct,  an  intuition  amounting 
to  genius — a  mind  that  leaped  over  every  compli- 
cation and  somehow  or  other,  by  hook  or  by  crook, 


2\S  ^t$»  aiaD0tone 

landed  on  the  right  spot,  and  said  and  did  and 
looked  the  right  thing. 

In  "A  Visit  to  Hawarden,"  ^  Lady  Ribblesdale 
aptly  hits  her  off. 

"Mrs.  Gladstone  was  sitting  with  us  round  the 
tea-table,  enjoying,  not  adding  to,  the  talk.  She 
listened  in  her  own  fugitive  happy  way;  whatever 
the  topic  she  seemed  to  master  all  she  needed  with 
three  seconds'  airy  inattention.  Her  quick  sym- 
pathy enabled  her  to  pick  up  anything  she  fancied, 
and  if  her  understanding  was  instinctive  rather 
than  intellectual,  it  was  seldom  at  fault." 

And  Laura  Lyttelton  at  Hawarden  in  1885 
writes  to  her  sister-in-law:  ".  .  .  and  my  chief  est 
among  ten  thousand  was  Auntie  Pussy.  I  did  love 
her  so  (Drawing  of  a  Puss). 

"People  say  there  is  nothing  so  warm  as  a  bed 
in  the  snow — if  that's  true  then  Auntie  Pussy  is 
the  snow  bed.  She  is  quite  as  white  in  that  blessed 
old  soul  of  hers — young  soul,  I  mean — quite  as 
sparkling  as  snow  in  the  sun,  quite  as  deep  and 
soft  and  quite  as  warm — and  warmer.  .  .  ." 

She  had  the  unusual  gift  of  acting  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment.  With  accurate  judgment  she  saw 
by  intuition  the  psychological  moment;  she  would 
leap  into  the  arena  while  others  were  hesitating 

^Nineteenth   Century  Revieiv. 


Cl)atacteri$tic0  219 

on  the  brink,  waiting  for  a  sign,  asking  themselves 
what  could  be  done,  like  Browning's  pair  in  "Dis 
aliter  visum."  Everybody's  business  is  nobody's 
business.  Sir  Charles  Ryan  told  me  of  his  life-long 
gratitude  to  her  for  coming  to  the  rescue  at  the  most 
embarrassing  moment  of  his  life.  He  was  being 
married  to  Miss  Shaw  Lefevre  in  July,  1862,  at 
St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  in  the  presence  of  the 
usual  London  crowd.  When  the  time  came  for 
him  to  place  the  ring  on  the  finger  of  the  bride, 
it  refused  to  go  on — the  ring  was  too  small.  An 
awkward  pause  ensued — paralysis  on  the  part  of 
the  guests — ^when  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  seen  rapidly 
making  her  way  through  the  crowd,  and  as  she 
reached  the  neighbourhood  of  the  bridal  pair, 
drawing  her  own  wedding  ring  oflf  her  own  finger, 
she  put  it  in  the  hand  of  Sir  Charles.  He  slipped 
it  on,  it  fitted,  and  the  situation  was  retrieved.  Yet 
she  was  always  almost  superstitious  about  her  wed- 
ding ring  and  could  never  bear  to  be  without  it. 

Lord  Rosebery  reminds  me  of  another  incident 
during  the  first  Midlothian  Campaign,  which 
greatly  amused  and  delighted  him.  One  after- 
noon we  drove  from  Dalmeny  to  a  neighbouring 
town  for  an  election  meeting  and  called  on  the 
Provost.  The  meeting  was  timed  for  three 
o'clock;   we   had   just  had   luncheon,   and   were. 


220  ^xs.  eiaD0tone 

somewhat  dismayed  at  finding  five  o'clock  tea 
ready  for  us  at  half  past  two.  It  was  suggested 
we  should  return  after  the  meeting  and  partake  of 
the  Provost's  hospitality.  What  was  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone's horror,  after  the  meeting  was  over  and  we 
went  back  to  the  house,  to  find  that  the  tea  had 
been  stewing  on  the  hob  during  the  intervening 
hours — the  very  same  tea  that  was  offered  at  two- 
thirty!  The  first  cup  was  almost  like  treacle  when 
it  was  handed  to  her  husband.  But  even  then  her 
resource  did  not  fail  her.  No  conjurer  could  have 
been  more  nimble.  She  sauntered  towards  her 
husband,  deftly  took  the  cup,  and  concealing  it 
beneath  her  mantle  she  suddenly  betrayed  a  long- 
ing to  behold  the  view.  Quietly  and  swiftly  she 
moved  towards  the  window,  and  unseen  by  the 
company  she  contrived  to  pour  the  offending 
liquid  into  the  garden  below. 

Here  is  one  more  instance.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone had  flitted  up  to  London  during  the  Recess, 
and  were  staying  in  Harley  Street  for  a  day  or 
two — there  was  practically  no  household  and  they 
had  arranged  to  go  to  luncheon  with  their  next- 
door  neighbour.  They  were  on  the  point  of  start- 
ing when  the  bell  rang  and  Lord  Granville  was 
shown  in.  "Can  you  give  me  some  luncheon?" 
he  said.    Mr.  Gladstone  was  just  about  to  explain 


Cf)aracteristic0  221 

that  unfortunately  there  was  no  luncheon  and  that 
they  were  going  out  for  luncheon.  What  was  his 
surprise  when  Mrs.  Gladstone  broke  in  before  he 
could  answer,  "Oh,  yes,  dear  Lord  Granville,  too 
delighted  to  have  you."  Such  was  her  husband's 
confidence  in  her  powers  of  resource  that  he  veiled 
his  astonishment  and  drew  Lord  Granville  into 
the  empty  dining-room  for  his  talk. 

Like  a  scene  in  a  play,  presently  the  door 
opened;  footmen  entered  with  trays;  the  cloth  was 
laid,  the  table  dressed,  the  butler  brought  in  wine, 
etc.  Mrs.  Gladstone  had  quietly  slipped  out  of 
the  house  and  brought  back  with  her  the  whole 
contingent — hostess,  servants  and  food — from  next 
door.  Chuckling  with  delight,  Mr.  Gladstone 
seated  himself  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  turn- 
ing to  his  hostess,  now  by  a  miracle  changed  into 
his  guest,  ''May  I  have  the  pleasure  of  giving  you 
some  of  this  excellent  pie?  I  have  special  reason 
for  highly  commending  it,"  etc.,  etc. 

The  spontaneity  and  impulsiveness  of  her  na- 
ture, of  her  movements,  her  actions,  her  words, 
while  distinctly  adding  to  the  charm,  sometimes 
resulted  in  laughable  situations.  Rash  and  impetu- 
ous as  she  was,  it  will  easily  be  believed  that  occa- 
sionally she  made  a  faux  pas;  but  if  by  any  chance 
she  did  come  to  grief,  no  one  was  ever  so  quick  at 


222  q^t$,  (S5laD0tone 

recovery,  so  alert  at  finding  an  escape,  so  nimble 
at  turning  the  tables  on  her  adversary. 

A  friend  who  met  her  at  dinner  In  the  'nineties 
relates  the  following  Incident.  It  aptly  Illustrates 
her  knack  of  carelessly  appropriating  to  herself 
the  vantage  ground,  when  quite  unmistakably  be- 
longing to  her  adversary.  She  was  seated  next  to 
Mr.  Jacob  Bright  and  looked  frankly  bored. 
Presently  she  broke  the  silence  in  a  desperate  sort 
of  way: 

"And  how  is  your  brother?" 
"My  brother,  John  Bright,  Is  no  more." 
Mrs.  Gladstone:    "Oh,  I  know  that — of  course 
I  did  not  mean  him.    I  meant  your  other  brother." 
Jacob  Bright:     "But  I   never  had   any  other 
brother,  Mrs.  Gladstone." 

Mrs.  Gladstone:  "Yes,  yes,  I  knew  him  quite 
well;  fatter  than  you — he  sat  for  Stoke  and  re- 
signed his  seat  on  account  of  ill  health." 

Jacob  Bright  (cheering  up  and  pleased  at  being 
mistaken  for  his  brother's  son)  :  "Oh,  that  Is  not 
my  brother — I  only  wish  I  was  not  too  old  to  claim 
a  brother  so  young.  The  one  you  mean  is  my 
nephew,  William  Leatham  Bright,  my  brother 
John's  son." 

Mrs.  Gladstone  (smiling  complacently  and  com- 
passionately) :     "Ah!     I  see  you  make  the  same 


C!)atacteti0ticiB;  223 

mistake  I  sometimes  do  and  confuse  the  genera- 


tions." 


(Total  discomfiture  of  Jacob  Bright  who  saw 
that,  somehow  or  other,  the  victory  did  not  lie  with 
him.  She  was  over  eighty  at  the  time,  but  had  not 
lost  the  elasticity  of  her  mind.) 

Explanations,  wordiness,  "trolls,"  ^  bored  and 
bothered  her.  She  wanted  to  get  without  delay  to 
the  point;  if  possible  to  sum  up  in  one  pregnant 
word  or  phrase,  something  like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning. Always  she  preferred  short  cuts,  leaving 
things  to  the  imagination.  The  key-note  of  the 
Glynnese  Glossary  (for  many  of  whose  expres- 
sions she  surely  must  have  been  responsible)  is 
ellipsis,  short  cuts.  "Than  which" — see  Lord  Lyt- 
telton's  admirable  example  and  explanation.  "I 
have  been  half  an  hour  teaching  Albert  to  write — 
"than  which/' 

*Tt  is  evident,"  says  Lord  Lyttelton,  "that  to 
assimilate  this  sentence  to  any  recognised  form  of 
expression,  nothing  less  than  some  enormous  ellipse 
is  required — 'than  which  nothing  more  bothering 
or  tedious  can  possibly  be  imagined.'  It  is  spoken 
in  a  tone  of  despairing  good  humour  and  with  a 
sort  of  combined  smile,  sigh,  and  shake  of  the 
head." 

*  Glynnese  for  prosinesg. 


224  ^r0»  (SlaDstone 

This  characteristic  often  led  her  to  join  up  or 
''telescope"  proverbs  or  phrases.  "The  will  has 
been  declared  vull,"  she  said.  "Do  you  mean  null 
and  void?"  asked  her  matter-of-fact  interlocutor. 

"No,  dear,  I  always  say  vull." 

He  "put  up  his  nose"  (turned  up  his  nose  and 
put  up  his  back)  ;  "riding  a  vicycle"  (bicycle  and 
vehicle)  ;  "the  cat  will  be  in  the  fire"  (letting  the 
cat  out  of  the  bag  does  put  the  fat  in  the  fire). 
These  were  not  the  ordinary  Malapropisms  of 
Sheridan.  They  were  her  very  own  Bonaprop- 
isms,  significant  of  ideas,  impressions  she  wished 
rapidly  and  acutely  to  convey.  With  her  amazing 
handiness  at  making  good  shots,  at  "twigging"  on 
only  fragmentary  data  (which  she  called  "seeing 
with  an  eye"),  it  is  not  odd  that  she  was  often  apt 
to  credit  others  with  her  own  quick  intuitions, 
greatly  to  their  discomfiture  and  to  her  own  amaze- 
ment, should  they  not  rise  to  the  occasion. 

"Thus  she  would  severely  complain  if  certain 
plans  or  directions  were  not  carried  out,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  she  had  omitted  to  supply  the 
necessary  details.  On  such  occasions  an  aggrieved 
niece  ^  would  dub  her  "Nebuchadnezzar,"  be- 
cause he  expected  his  magicians,  on  pain  of  death, 

*Lady  F.  Cavendish. 


C!)aracteti0tic0  225 

not  only  to  interpret  his  dream  but  to  tell  him  the 
dream  he  had  dreamed." 

But  it  is  very  hard,  no  doubt,  to  give  a  true  pic- 
ture of  her  humour,  so  curious  a  blending  was  she 
of  the  casual  and  the  concentrated.  She  had  a 
heavenly  sense  of  fun,  but  its  manner  of  expres- 
sion was  all  her  own.  There  was  nothing  on  earth 
to  compare  to  the  twinkle  in  her  eye.  And  she 
was  really  witty  in  her  own  way,  though  only  half- 
consciously  so;  "hers  was  the  incarnation  of 
motherwit,  not  only  in  conversation  but  in  the  con- 
duct of  life  generally — wit  in  the  widest  sense,  in- 
cluding gravity  and  wisdom."  She  was  ever  a 
source  of  affectionate  amusement  to  those  who 
knew  her  well.  One  of  those  blessed  beings  you 
laughed  with,  at  and  for,  and  whichever  it  was 
she  and  you  enjoyed  it. 

Coming  out  from  Family  Prayers  one  morning 
"Mumble  Major"  so  she  summed  up  the  reading 
of  our  host.  Of  a  good-hearted,  bustling  lady  she 
would  say — "In  she  walked  with  her  here  I  am 
hat."  Asked  to  describe  a  lady's  dress  (of  rather 
questionable  reputation),  after  picturing  the  gen- 
eral effect,  she  paused — "As  to  the  body — well — 
I  can  only  describe  it  as  a  look  at  me  body."  On 
another  occasion  she  was  speaking  about  the  un- 
loverlike  relations  of  a  newly  engaged  couple — 


226  ^r0»  aiaD0tone 

"To  be  sure,"  she  said,  "they  did  sit  side  by  side 
upon  the  couch;  but  they  looked  just  like  a  coach- 
man and  footman  on  the  box,  so  stiff  and  upright 
you  could  always  see  the  light  between.'* 

Daily  she  would  be  off  on  some  errand  of  per- 
sonal service,  some  act  of  love  or  sympathy;  a 
smile,  a  sigh,  a  tear.  Never  did  she  seem  to  lose 
sight  of  the  needs  of  others.  She  would  scarcely 
enjoy  a  mouthful  of  food  without  remembering 
someone — perhaps  in  the  village,  or  Home  of 
Rest,  or  Orphanage — less  well  supplied  with 
worldly  goods.  "Cut  off  a  wing,"  she  would  say 
to  the  long-suffering  butler,  "and  let  it  go  hot  to 
Miss  R.  at  once.  On  the  mantelpiece  in  the  hall 
was  usually  to  be  seen  some  titbit  she  had  pur- 
loined from  the  luncheon  table  on  the  chance  of 
somebody  going  up  to  the  village.  "Never  go  to 
bed  at  night,"  she  said  to  her  children,  "without 
the  feeling  you  have  done  some  little  act  of  kind- 
ness or  selflessness." 

Nowadays  she  might  have  belonged  to  the 
P.  B.  S.,^  so  few  words  did  she  waste.  Her  time 
also  she  never  wasted.  Up  to  her  eighty-fifth  year 
she  did  not  walk  upstairs,  she  ran. 

But  she  could  hardly  be  called  an  ideal  Prime 
Minister's  wife,  any  more  than  he  could  be  chosen 

^Preservation  of  Breath  Society. 


Cf)aracteri0tic0  227 

as  the  type  of  an  ideal  Prime  Minister.  His  con- 
scientiousness was  often  tiresome  to  and  misunder- 
stood by  his  colleagues;  both  of  them  were  too 
much  absorbed  in  their  several  "works"  to  fulfill 
small  social  duties  with  much  success;  they  were 
neither  of  them  gifted  with  the  royal  eye  and — 
fatal  fault — frequently  mistook  one  person  for  an- 
other. She  was  careless  and  neglectful  as  to  re- 
turning calls.  Lord  Acton  always  regretted  that 
there  was  so  little  system  as  to  small  civilities  in 
society,  or  as  he  called  it  ''greasing  the  w^heels" — 
i.  e.,  dropping  hundreds  of  cards,  keeping  immacu- 
late lists  of  callers,  of  politicians  carefully  differ- 
entiated into  groups,  to  be  coaxed,  flattered,  no- 
ticed, looked  after ;  wandering  sheep  to  be  led  back 
to  the  Liberal  fold.  There  was  indeed  but  little 
of  this  necessary  work.  He  was  up  to  his  eyes  in 
graver  issues  of  State,  and  she  was  absorbed  in 
schemes  chiefly  humanitarian. 

As  we  look  back  upon  the  fruitful  years  of  this 
long  and  crowded  life,  we  seem  to  recognise  how 
the  chief  characteristics  of  the  child  as  seen  in 
Chapter  I,  determination  of  purpose  and  "enthu- 
siasm of  humanity,"  have  been  throughout  Its 
mainspring.  The  dauntless  will  enabled  her  to 
surmount  all  difficulties,  the  loving  heart  to  guide 
the  will  in  the  paths  of  righteousness. 


228  ^t0»  eiati$tone 

Infallible  she  was  not;  she  had  her  naughti- 
nesses; she  was  wilful;  she  made  her  mistakes; 
they  were  les  defauts  de  ses  qualites.  But  she  had 
a  heart  of  gold;  the  eternal  child  was  in  her  and 
of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  anything  really 
approaching  to  a  Life  of  Mrs.  Gladstone  under 
several  volumes.  Any  reader  who  possibly  may 
be  kindled  into  a  longing  to  know  more  of  her 
fourscore  years  and  eight  must  have  recourse  to 
the  noble  biography  of  her  husband.^  There  can 
be  in  existence  few  books  more  elevating  to  the 
mind,  more  kindling  to  the  spirit,  more  profoundly 
interesting  both  historically  and  personally.  In 
these  volumes  only  can  be  found  the  full  record  of 
her  outer  life — of  the  mighty  triumphs,  of  the 
overwhelming  anxieties,  the  hours  of  suspense,  the 
trials  and  disappointments  that  she  shared  with 
him.  But  whether  in  defeat  or  whether  in  vic- 
tory, in  sorrow  or  in  joy,  they  were  one  in  mind 
and  soul. 

If  any  two  creatures  grew  into  one, 

They  would  do  more  than  the  world  has  done. 

Though  each  apart  were  never  so  weak, 

Ye  vainly  through  the  world  should  seek 

For  the  knowledge  and  the  might 

Which  in  such  union  grew  their  right.^ 

^  Life  of  W.  E.  Gladstone,  by  Lord  Morley. 
^  "The  Flight  of  the  Duchess,"  by  Browning. 


C[)aracteti$tiC!8!  229 

The  duration  of  their  married  life  was  nearly 
threescore  years  and  ten,  throughout  which  time 
their  lives  were  closely  interwoven,  everything 
that  concerned  him  touched  the  very  roots  of  her 
being.  They  acted  and  reacted  on  one  another, 
and  without  the  thrill  and  profound  interest  of 
his  life,  hers  would  have  been  an  absolutely  dif- 
ferent matter. 

Without  her  it  is  likely  that  he  would  still  have 
made  an  indelible  mark  on  history,  but  much  of 
the  lighter  side,  the  charm,  the  fun,  would  have 
been  lost.  Without  him,  her  life  would  have 
lacked  public  importance  and  interest,  but  in 
whatever  circumstances  or  conditions  she  had  been 
born,  she  would  have  stirred  the  waters;  she  would 
have  made  things  hum;  nothing  approaching  dull- 
ness or  stagnation  could  have  existed  in  her  pres- 
ence. 

No  one  knew  him  better  in  later  life  than  Lord 
Morley,  no  one  can  have  studied  more  deeply 
every  phase  of  his  career  and  character.  Mrs. 
Gladstone,  in  a  conversation  with  him  in  1891, 
spoke  of  her  husband's  two  opposing  sides — the 
one  impetuous,  impatient,  irrestrainable;  the  other 
all  self-control,  able  to  dismiss  everything  but  the 
great  central  aim,  able  to  put  aside  all  that  is  weak- 
ening, or  disturbing — that  he  had  achieved  this 


r 


230  ^r0*  (SlaDsitone 

complete  mastery  of  self  and  had  succeeded  in  the 
dire  struggle  ever  since  he  was  three  or  four  and 
twenty.  This  conquest  he  had  won  first  by  the 
natural  grit  of  his  character,  second  by  ceaseless 
wrestling  in  prayer — prayer  that  had  been  abun- 
dantly answered. 

"If  he  sometimes  recalls  a  fiery  hero  of  the 
Iliad,"  says  Lord  Morley,  "at  other  times  he  is 
the  grave  and  studious  Benedictine,  but  whether 
in  quietude  or  movement,  always  a  man  inspired 
with  a  purpose.  He  was  an  idealist  yet  ever  apply- 
ing ideals  to  their  purposes  in  act." 

Mrs.  Gladstone,  perhaps  not  unnaturally,  re- 
garded her  husband's  speaking  as  absolutely  un- 
equalled, above  that  of  every  orator  living  or  dead. 
How  far  did  she  exaggerate  this  pre-eminence? 
Mr.  Balfour  paid  it  a  notable  tribute  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  May  19,  1898;  Lord  Morley's  more 
analytic  description  is  a  masterpiece,  but  Lord 
Acton  surely  sums  it  up  best  of  all: 

"He  alone  possessed  all  the  qualities  of  the  ora- 
tor. Whether  he  prepared  an  oration  or  hurled  a 
reply,  whether  he  addressed  a  British  mob  or  the 
cream  of  Italian  politicians,  and  would  be  still  the 
same  if  he  spoke  in  Latin  to  Convocation." 

"Shall  I  be  short  and  precise?"  he  asked  his 
chief  before  rising  to  reply  in  debate.    "No,"  said 


Cl)atactenstic0  231 

Sir  Robert  Peel,  "be  long  and  diffuse.  It  is  all 
important  in  the  House  of  Commons  to  state  your 
case  in  many  different  ways." 

Yet  no  one  sympathised  more  truly  with  those 
who  listened  to  him — "I  had  to  make  an  oration 
to  which  they  listened  with  admirable  patience." 

The  first  time,  as  a  child,  he  ever  had  to  listen 
to  a  sermon  (at  St.  George's,  Liverpool),  he  re- 
membered turning  quickly  to  his  Mother — "Will 
he  soon  have  done?" 

It  was  seen,  quite  in  early  days,  that  he  was  a 
man  of  lion  heart.  Three  men  he  used  to  recog- 
nise as  possessing  in  a  supreme  degree  the  virtue 
of  Parliamentary  courage — Sir  Robert  Peel,  Lord 
John  Russell  and  Mr.  Disraeli. 

"Toil  was  his  natural  element."  He  worked 
hard  every  day  of  the  year,  every  hour  of  the  day. 
Whatever  he  did  he  did  with  all  his  might.  Yet 
he  often  felt  the  longing  for  repose. 

"The  tumult  of  business,"  he  wrote,  "follows 
and  whirls  me  day  and  night."  And  again,  "A 
day  restless  as  the  sea." 

The  following  letter  to  Lord  Lyttelton  reveals 
the  modesty  and  even  self-distrust  of  his  nature; 

"It  is  my  nature  to  lean  not  so  much  on  the  ap- 
plause as  upon  the  assent  of  others  to  a  degree 


232  9ir0*  aiati0tone 

which  perhaps  I  do  not  show,  from  that  sense  of 
weakness  and  utter  inadequacy  to  my  work  which 
never  ceases  to  attend  me  while  I  am  engaged 
upon  these  subjects.  ...  I  wish  you  knew  the 
state  of  total  impotence  to  which  I  should  be  re- 
duced if  there  were  no  echo  to  the  accents  of  my 
own  voice.  I  go  through  my  labour,  such  as  it  is, 
not  by  a  genuine  elasticity  of  spirit,  but  by  a  plod- 
ding movement  only  just  able  to  contend  with 
inert  force,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  life  which  indeed 
has  little  claim  to  be  called  active,  yet  is  broken 
this  way  and  that  into  a  thousand  small  details 
certainly  unfavourable  to  calm  and  continuity  of 
thought." 

And  to  his  wife  in  December,  1841,  he  wrote 
of  his  craving  for  tranquillity — of  his  need  of 
quiescence  at  home  during  the  Parliamentary  Ses- 
sion— he  speaks  of  her  presence  and  that  of  her 
sister  Mary  as  alone  never  jarring  or  disturbing 
his  "mental  rest."  But  he  adds — "There  is  no 
man,  however  near  to  me,  with  whom  I  am  fit  to 
live  when  hard  worked." 

With  all  his  gravity  of  temperament,  those  who 
knew  him  best  would  never  deny  the  gaiety  of  his 
heart.  Sincerity  and  simplicity  were  the  dom- 
inant notes  of  his  character,  both  quite  compatible 


Cf)aracteti0tic0  233 

with  subtlety  of  intellect — and  kindness  was  the 
habit  of  his  mind.  No  loving  enterprise  of  hers 
ever  came  amiss  to  him — he  trusted  to  her  intui- 
tion, and  was  ever  ready  to  co-operate  with  her 
financially  or  otherwise.  Were  we  all  of  us  moved 
by  the  loving  kindness  that  characterised  these 
two,  there  would  be  little  misery  in  the  world. 

There  is  no  doubt  he  was  formidable  at  times, 
specially  when  carried  away  by  righteous  indigna- 
tion, but  not  one  of  his  children  or  grandchildren 
was  ever  in  awe  of  him,  or  indeed  failed  to  treat 
him  more  or  less  as  an  equal.  Stern  in  self-judg- 
ment, he  was  infinitely  gentle  to  the  weak,  the 
erring  and  the  fallen. 

It  is  by  no  means  easy  to  "place"  his  sense  of 
humour.  It  is  denied  to  him  by  those  who  only 
experienced  the  intensity  of  his  earnestness.  Sir 
Charles  Dilke  says:  "Mr.  Gladstone  was  always 
of  a  playful  mind,  and  whatever  his  absorption  in 
the  subject,  would  break  off  to  discuss  some  amus- 
ing triviality." 

This  would  hardly  be  a  usual  view  of  him. 
Mrs.  Asquith  was  surprised  to  discover  his  great 
appreciation  of  Heine,  having  resolved  that  his 
sense  of  humour  would  not  be  sufficiently  subtle. 
Of  playfulness  his  speeches  gave  a  thousand  proofs, 
and  no  one  would  deny  his  alacrity  of  mind.    But 


234  ^r0.  aiaD0tone 

there  is  no  doubt  Lord  Morley  is  right  when  he 
says,  "It  was  not  always  easy  to  be  sure  beforehand 
what  sort  of  jest  would  hit  or  miss." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Mrs.  Gladstone 
stimulated  his  sense  of  humour,  and  that  very  often 
it  saved  the  situation.  He  was  quick  in  seeing  the 
humour  of  a  situation  if  not  too  deeply  absorbed 
in  its  other  aspects.  Many  an  amusing  poem  or 
satire  he  dashed  off  on  the  spur  of  the  moment, 
and  one  of  his  chiefest  delights  was  to  discover 
words  for  which  it  was  difficult  to  find  rhymes — 
e.  g.,  his  poems  to  Margot  and  his  address  to  Par- 
kins and  Gotto.  These  would  be  found  among  his 
papers  at  St.  Deiniol's.^ 

One  anecdote  may  be  recorded  as  illustrating 
the  way  Mrs.  Gladstone  had  schooled  her  husband 
to  jump  with  her: 

"Oh,  William,  only  think,  so  exciting  1  The 
Cook  and  the  Captain  are  going  to  be  married!" 
(This  was  her  morning's  news  from  her  Con- 
valescent Home.)  Apparently  he  took  no  notice; 
seemingly  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  he  ab- 
sently stretched  out  his  hand  for  a  sheet  of  note 
paper  and  began  to  write.  "Oh,  of  course,  you 
are  too  full  of  Homer  and  your  old  gods  and 
goddesses  to  care — stupid  of  mel"    For  a  few  min- 

*St  Deiniol's  Library  at  Hawarden. 


Ci)atacteti0tic0  235 

utes  he  went  on  writing,  then  handing  her  the 
paper — "There!  that's  all  I  can  do;  your  informa- 
tion was  so  very  scanty."  And  there  was  a  poetic 
skit  in  three  stanzas  entitled : 

THE  COOK  AND  THE  CAPTAIN 

The  Cook  and  the  Captain  determined  one  day, 
When  worthy  Miss  Simmons  was  out  of  the  way, 
On  splicing  together  a  life  and  a  life, 
The  one  as  a  husband,  the  other  as  wife — 
Fol  de  rol,  tol  de  rol,  fol  de  rol  la. 

The  Captain  a  subaltern  officer  made, 

But  the  Cook!  she  was  monarch  of  all  she  surveyed — 

So  how  could  they  hit  it  the  marrying  day, 

If  she  was  to  order  and  he  to  obey? 

Fol  de  rol,  tol  de  rol,  fol  de  rol  la. 

Miss  Simmons  came  home  and  she  shouted,  "Oh,  dear! 
What  riot  is  this?    What  the  d.  .  .1  is  here? 
If  the  Cook  and  the  Captain  will  not  be  quiescent. 
How  can  I  expect  it  from  each  Convalescent?" 
Fol  de  rol,  tol  de  rol,  fol  de  rol  la. 

Mr.  G.  W.  E.  Russell,  who  visited  Hawarden 
more  than  once,  notices  the  genial,  lighter  side  of 
their  life  as  inexpressibly  attractive.  One  of  the 
unexpected  incidents  which  most  surprised  and 
pleased  him  was  their  custom,  in  special  moments 
of  exhilaration,  of  standing  with  arms  round  each 
other  on  the  hearth  rug,  swaying  as  they  sang: 


236  ^t0.  aiaD0tone 

A  ragamuffin  husband  and  a  rantipoHng  wife, 

We'll  fiddle  it  and  scrape  it  through  the  ups  and  downs  of  life. 

She  hardly  ever  had  occasion  to  complain  of  his 
restlessness  during  sleepless  nights.  His  iron  self- 
control  allowed  him  to  keep  rigidly  quiet — he  re- 
membered the  words  of  his  "beloved  physician": 
"If  you  make  up  your  mind,  when  you  cannot 
sleep,  to  lie  still,  little  will  be  lost  of  your  rest." 
There  are  but  two  occasions  that  he  departed  from 
this  rule.  In  1844,  the  two  pairs  of  honeymooners 
were  again  at  Fasque.  Ellen  Middleton  ^  was  just 
published.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  so  engrossed  by 
its  absorbing  interest  that  he  read  it  all  the  night 
through,  while  the  emotion  broke  his  brother-in- 
law  ^  into  tears. 

But  on  the  night  of  May  6,  1882,  the  day  that 
Lord  Frederick  Cavendish  was  murdered,  he  was 
unable  to  rest.  He  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  had  been 
with  their  niece  in  Carlton  House  Terrace  until 
the  small  hours  of  the  morning  of  May  7th.  This 
tragedy  touched  them  both  to  the  quick;  they  loved 
their  niece's  husband  with  a  parental  love.  No 
young  man,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Mr. 
Balfour,  was  ever  more  dear  to  them.    That  night 

*Sir  Andrew  Clark. 

'  By  Lady  Georgiana  Fullerton. 

•Lord  Lyttelton. 


Cftatacteri0tic0  237 

restlessness  overmastered  him.  Finally  he  left  his 
bed  and  composed  the  poem  in  twenty  verses, 
which  ends  with  these  words: 

And  thou,  O  Mourner,  lift  thine  head, 
'  And  see  this  jewel  of  thy  love 

With  earthly  soil  no  more  bestead, 
And  safe  for  ever  stored  above. 

He  suffereth  no  more,  nor  dieth, 
Nor  wandereth  now  in  twilights  dim. 
In  light  and  rest  and  peace  he  lieth, 
The  prayers  of  millions  follow  him. 

Diverse  as  they  were  in  character  and  tempera- 
ment, what  was  the  secret  of  their  abiding  love  for 
one  another,  their  joy  through  a  span  of  life  nearly 
twenty  years  longer  than  that  usually  allotted  to 
man? 

They  were  moved  by  the  same  ardour  to  gather 
the  very  best,  the  richest  out  of  life.  To  them  life 
was  not  a  thing  to  be  idled  and  pleasured  away; 
it  was  a  sacred  trust  that  implied  true  and  laudable 
services  to  God  and  man.  They  lifted  it  to  a  new 
level.  To  them  every  additional  child  added  a 
glory  to  their  home.  She  revelled  in  the  priceless 
blessing  of  his  perfect  trust,  even  while  he  might 
occasionally  be  bewildered  by  her  daring  exploits. 

With  them  to  pity  was  to  act.  "I  don't  think 
much  of  their  pity,  when  it  does  not  touch  their 


238  g^r0*  aiaD0tone 

pockets,"  so  said  an  old  woman  as  she  left  a  Parish 
meeting.  But  their  emotions  were  never  stirred  in 
vain.  One  might  reasonably  think  that  the  un- 
avoidable daily  grind  of  life  is  ample  discipline  in 
moulding  and  chastening  the  human  character. 
But  the  highest  development  of  self-restraint  is 
seen  at  its  best  in  those  who  gladly  and  voluntarily 
ofifer  service,  grappling  perhaps  daily  with  the 
first  temptation  that  awaits  them,  the  temptation 
to  lie  in  bed.  Mr.  Gladstone  once  owned  that  the 
struggle  never  grew  less,  that  custom  did  not  ease 
the  battle,  that  it  was  as  hard  to  get  daily  out  of 
bed  for  early  morning  Service  after  he  was  eighty 
as  when  he  was  half  that  age.  The  habit  of  self- 
mastery  at  normal  times  gave  the  victory  at  a  crisis. 
And  the  crown  of  the  conflict  was  witnessed  by  her 
courage  and  self-command  during  the  winter  and 
spring  of  1898,  and  in  him  during  his  final  illness, 
when  the  spirit  rose  triumphant  over  the  flesh  and 
in  the  greatest  anguish  of  body  enabled  him  to  give 
thanks.^ 

To  both  of  them  religion  was  the  master-key  of 
life.  Mr.  Gladstone  never  thought  of  the  Church 
but  as  the  Soul  of  the  State.  In  every  act  the  re- 
ligious motive  was  predominant.  In  everything 
he  thought,  said,  and  did,  he  took  for  granted  that 

'  Oftenest  in  the  words  of  Newman's  Hymn,  "Praise  to  the  Holiest." 


< 


< 

z 
o 

H 

Q 

< 


CO 


S 


Cf)aracteri0tic0  239 

right  and  wrong  depended  on  the  same  principles 
in  public  as  in  private  life. 

It  has  been  truly  said — "He  lived  and  wrought 
in  the  sunlight." 

While  he  laboured  inside  and  outside  the  walls 
of  Parliament  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  those  least 
fitted  to  bear  them,  she  used  her  gifts  and  graces 
in  strengthening  and  sweetening  and  purifying  the 
sad,  the  lonely,  the  sinful,  the  suffering,  whether 
poor  or  rich,  weak  or  powerful;  with  both  hands 
she  gave  her  love,  her  strength,  her  pity,  her  suc- 
cour, to  those  who  needed  them. 

It  has  been  said  of  him — "He  so  lived  and 
wrought  that  he  kept  the  soul  alive  in  England."  ^ 
And  if  he  kept  the  soul,  she  kept  the  heart  alive. 
In  truth  the  secret  lay  in  their  devotion  to  Him, 
"Whose  service  is  perfect  freedom." 

*  For  he  divined  "that  laws  should  be  adapted  to  those  who  have 
the  heaviest  stake  in  the  country,  those  to  whom  misgovernment  means, 
not  mortified  pride,  or  stinted  luxury,  but  want  and  pain  and  degrada- 
tion, and  risk  to  their  own  lives  and  to  their  children's  souls." — Lord 
Acton's  Letters. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GOOD  WORKS 

THIS  chapter  on  "her  good  works"  is  most- 
ly taken  from  an  In  Memoriam,  written 
by  one  of  whom  it  may  be  said  that, 
though  not  of  Catherine  Gladstone's  own  flesh  and 
blood,  she  loved  and  served  her,  perhaps  more 
than  any  other,  "to  the  uttermost  and  to  the  end." 

Mrs.  Gladstone  had  the  genius  of  Charity.  She 
could,  much  more  than  was  often  known,  elaborate 
a  plan  and  set  a  work  going  on  large  wise  founda- 
tions. 

With  a  houseful  of  children  and  grandchildren, 
of  nephews  and  nieces,  and  a  husband  to  whom  she 
was  utterly  devoted,  she  might  easily  have  pro- 
duced the  favourite  plea  of  "no  time,"  and  it  would 
have  appeared  a  satisfactory  one.  But  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone had  a  larger  conception  of  duty  and  of  love; 
with  her  it  was  not  "What  must  I  do?"  but  "What 
can  I  do?" 

And  to  a  nature  like  hers,  an  intuition  as  swift 

as  it  was  unexplainable,  time  is  a  very  elastic  thing. 

Many  a  scheme  which  is  either  still  in  activity  for 

240 


aoon  motksi  241 

good,  or  has  completed  its  work,  had  at  its  source 
Mrs.  Gladstone  as  its  inspiration.  She  saw  the 
need,  invented  the  plan,  found  the  workers,  set  the 
machinery  going,  and  turned  to  something  else. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  together  were  amongst 
the  first  and  most  steadfast  friends  of  the  House  of 
Charity,  still  a  living  house  of  mercy  and  pity  in 
Greek  Street,  Soho.  The  Newport  Market  Refuge 
and  its  offspring,  the  Boys'  Industrial  School,  in 
the  great  war,  as  in  the  past,  has  given  the  army 
many  a  dauntless  soldier.  Mr.  Gladstone  having, 
on  hearing  her  plan,  offered  one  hundred  pounds, 
If  she  could  raise  nine  other  hundreds  from  her 
friends;  this  she  accomplished  and  the  sum  of  one 
thousand  pounds  started  the  Refuge  in  Newport 
Market,  close  to  Seven  Dials.  It  is  now  in  West- 
minster. 

Her  own  home  at  Hawarden,  all  through  her 
life  nearest  to  her  heart,  with  its  many  dependent 
districts,  found  her  always,  not  a  Patroness,  but  a 
true  and  understanding  friend,  who  was  a  wise  and 
constant  visitor,  a  Nurse  herself  to  many  a  case  of 
illness  and  ahead  of  her  time  in  many  of  the  arts 
of  nursing.  When  nursing  grew  into  a  profession 
she  did  not  rest  till  she  had  established  a  good 
Nurse  in  the  Parish,  saw  to  her  provision  and  her 
comfort  and  cheered  her  by  her  sympathy. 


242  a^r0«  aiaD0tone 

The  Lancashire  Cotton  Famine  gave  her  another 
opportunity  for  help,  and  in  old  magazines  there 
are  many  reports  of  how  she  would  come,  discuss 
the  questions,  give  a  practical  and  practicable 
scheme  for  help  and  set  each  place  going  on  lines 
neither  pauperising  nor  hard. 

One  of  her  tender  charities  was  the  Old  Ladies' 
Home,  close  to  the  Castle,  where  people  who  had 
— pathetic  phrase — "seen  better  days"  were  tended, 
comforted,  amused  and  constantly  visited.  And 
visitors  to  the  Castle  were  sent  with  instructions  to 
"make  breaks  for  them." 

Here  we  may  give  one  day  of  her  life  at  Ha- 
warden,  after  she  was  eighty.  She  had  been  to 
early  Church,  walking  both  ways,  nearly  a  mile 
uphill;  she  had  read  Family  Prayers  at  home;  she 
was  at  her  breakfast  when  word  came  that  a  Nurse 
looking  after  typhoid  patients  in  a  distant  part  of 
the  Estate  had  sickened  with  the  fever.  Not  a 
moment  did  she  lose,  and  in  her  pony  carriage  she 
hurried  off  to  Queen's  Ferry,  where  the  Nurse  was 
lodging.  Having  made  full  arrangements,  she 
came  back  to  the  Castle  to  explain  to  us;  then  re- 
turned to  the  station  at  Queen's  Ferry  (two  and  a 
half  miles  off)  and  whipped  the  Nurse  off  by  train 
to  Chester.  Arrived  there  she  supported  the  pa- 
tient up  and  down  the  long  stairs  at  the  railway 


station,  carrying  her  bag  and  parcels  in  a  fly  with 
her  all  round  Chester,  in  vain  seeking  shelter.  At 
length,  partly  cajoling,  partly  scolding,  she  per- 
suaded the  Infirmary  authorities  to  take  her  in; 
and,  having  seen  her  comfortably  tucked  up,  she 
returned  to  the  station,  with  a  sandwich  from  the 
Matron,  and  reached  home  about  four  o'clock. 
The  grandchildren  were  coming  to  tea.  First  she 
prepared  a  stage — she  had  promised  them  cha- 
rades— arranging  screens,  furniture,  lights;  then 
collected  and  arranged  the  rows  of  seats.  Flew 
across  to  the  Orphanage  and  Home  of  Rest,  to 
charter  an  audience  from  the  inmates,  among 
whom  she  placed  the  Prime  Minister,  wheeled  out 
of  his  Temple  of  Peace;  gathered  the  children 
round  her  in  the  green-room,  and  after  a  rapid 
coaching  and  coaxing,  put  them  through  their 
paces — taking  a  prominent  part  herself — and 
somehow  or  other  contrived  to  get  them  through 
fairly  creditably,  none  of  them  having  any  turn  for 
acting.  Afterwards  she  presided  at  their  tea-party, 
finishing  up  by  playing  spirited  dances  for  them 
till  it  was  time  for  them  to  leave.  Still  there  re- 
mained dressing  and  dinner  and  the  normal  eve- 
ning, till  bed  welcomed  her  to  well-earned  rest. 

She  worked  for  the  Institution  for  the  Blind,  for 
St.  Mary  Magdalen's  in  Paddington;  she  estab- 


244  ^r$»  aiali0tone 

lished  Soup  Kitchens  in  St.  George's  in  the  East 
during  hard  winters  of  exceptional  distress.  Her 
doings  would  fill  volumes,  and  surely  do  fill  one 
volume — that  of  "The  Lord's  Book  of  Remem- 
brance." 

Of  all  her  works,  the  Home  that  bears  her  name 
might  be  reckoned  as  the  nearest  to  her  heart — the 
one  known  as  the  Catherine  Gladstone  Home.  It 
was  the  only  free  institution  for  convalescents  in 
the  Kingdom.  Begun  in  1866  at  Woodford,  many 
thousands  have  been  its  guests,  nursed  back  to 
health  of  body  and  with  bruised  and  sore  spirits 
soothed  and  consoled.  It  is  easy  to  go  to  the  East 
End  and  beyond  it  now;  it  was  toilsome  then.  But 
she  constantly  went  to  Woodford  in  Essex  (it  is 
now  established  at  Mitcham),  till  she  finally  left 
London  in  1894.  She  took  people  with  her  whom 
she  could  interest,  sat  and  talked  with  the  inmates, 
and  with  her  marvellous  intuition  would  select 
those  whom  prompt  help  could  start  afresh.  Then 
she  would  set  herself  to  enliven  them,  and  with  a 
singularly  brilliant  touch,  would  play  them  dance 
music  to  cheer  their  spirits  and  set  them  singing  or 
dancing. 

Once  a  week  Mrs.  Gladstone,  with  Lady  Fred- 
erick Cavendish,  went  to  the  London  Hospital, 
herself  saw  and  selected  the  patients  and  sent  them 


down  to  Woodford  with  words  of  cheer.  No  one 
who  went  to  the  Home  could  ever  say — "No  man 
careth  for  my  soul." 

In  1866  London  was  swept  by  a  plague  of 
cholera.  Mrs.  Gladstone,  regardless  of  infection, 
threw  herself  into  the  work  in  home  and  hospital. 
In  the  latter  so  great  was  the  pressure  that  the  sick 
had  often  to  be  laid  on  the  floor  till  death  vacated 
a  bed.  Mrs.  Gladstone  comforted  the  dying  with 
words  of  faith,  and  promises  of  care  for  the  or- 
phans left  desolate.  These  promises  took  much 
time  and  contrivance  to  fulfil  but  they  were  ful- 
filled. It  was  then  she  carried  ofif  the  babies  rolled 
up  in  blankets.  One  outcome  was  an  orphanage  at 
Hawarden  for  the  boys,  Mrs.  Tait  taking  the 
girls — in  whom  to  her  life's  end  she  took  the  warm- 
est personal  interest,  starting  them  in  life,  writing 
to  them,  and  understanding  their  characters. 

The  Convalescent  Home  was  another  means  of 
help  and  was  founded  as  a  result  of  the  cholera 
outbreak. 

It  was  her  constant  habit  to  ask  the  Matron  of 
the  Convalescent  Home — "Is  there  any  good  case 
we  can  set  on  its  feet?"  No  sooner  was  one  found 
than  she  set  every  resource  to  work  till  the  man  or 
woman  was  well  started  and  had  a  full  and  fair 
opportunity.     Mr.  Gladstone  being  always  ready 


246  ^t9i*  (SIaD0tone 

to  say,  "Remember,  if  it's  wanted,  I'm  good  for 
help." 

At  the  Home  the  inmates  were,  and  are  still, 
guests,  expected  to  behave  as  such  and  responding 
to  the  invitation. 

One  day  while  busy  selecting  convalescents  for 
her  Home,  she  asked  Mrs.  Lyttelton  ^ — who  had 
accompanied  her  to  the  London  Hospital — to  visit 
meanwhile  in  the  Wards.  Finding  herself  in  the 
Men's  Ward,  something  made  her  approach  a  man 
of  singularly  uninviting  aspect,  so  gloomy  and  sin- 
ister was  his  expression. 

The  "Tale  of  Two  Cities"  was  in  his  hand — 
"And  that's  what  we  want  here,"  he  growled.  "A 
Revolution."  "But,  surely,"  said  Constance,  "the 
cruelties  and  injustices  of  those  days  are  past;  think 
of  all  the  loving-kindness  there  is  in  the  world — 
look  at  Mrs.  Gladstone — she  brought  me  here." 
His  whole  face  changed  and  softened.  "Ah!  Mrs. 
Gladstone,  she  is  different."  And  as  he  spoke  the 
door  opened  and  she  came  in  and  looked  round 
with  her  radiant  smile.  "If  only  there  were  more 
like  her.  .  .  ." 

Into  one  pitiful  field  of  work,  the  work  of  ten- 
derness and  compassion  for  the  fallen,  rescue  and 

'Wife  of  Rev.  Hon.  W.  H.  Lyttelton. 


(^oodmorks  247 

prevention  work  among  women,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gladstone  had  thrown  the  full  fervour  of  their 
hearts.  In  1852  they  met  Mrs.  Monsell  at  Naples 
and  planned  and  shared  with  her  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  famous  and  beautiful  group  of  build- 
ings at  Clewer. 

Fifty  years  ago  they  had  a  meeting  at  Carlton 
House  Terrace  to  start  the  Mary  Magdalen  Res- 
cue Home,  later  on  moved  to  Paddington.  The 
chief  object  of  this  Home  was  to  shelter  the  babies 
as  well  as  the  girl  mothers.  This  was  at  that  time 
quite  a  new  departure.  They  held  strongly  the 
opinion  that  it  was  the  most  natural  as  well  as  the 
most  wholesome  course  and  often  a  means  of  re- 
generation to  the  mother. 

In  the  streets  of  London  they  worked  with  tire- 
less energy;  she  shrank  from  nothing.  This  is  not 
the  place  to  enlarge  on  this  subject.  But  when 
walking  home  one  night  with  his  Secretary,  Mr. 
Gladstone  turned  back  to  rescue  a  poor  creature. 
His  Secretary  asked  him — "But  what  will  Mrs. 
Gladstone  say  if  you  take  this  woman  home?"  Mr. 
Gladstone  turned  round  in  surprise. 

"Why,  it  is  to  Mrs.  Gladstone  I  am  taking  her." 

Truly  it  could  be  said  throughout  her  life — 
"The  heart  of  her  husband  doth  safely  trust  in 
her." 


248  ^i:0«  aiaD0tone 

Helpfulness — that  was  the  note  of  her  character. 
In  any  difficulty,  in  the  most  impossible  case,  she 
would  plan,  contrive,  arrange,  enlist  others,  and 
never  rest  until  the  difficulty  was  solved  and  the 
persons  put  in  the  way  of  helping  themselves ;  nay, 
more — supported,  befriended,  encouraged,  till 
they  could  stand  alone.  Perhaps  few  persons  were 
so  often  consulted  and  appealed  to.  It  might  be 
young  girls  entering  on  life,  in  the  first  joy  of  a 
marriage  engagement;  or  young  beauties  to  whom 
she  would  suggest  thoughts  that  were  unworldly. 
Often  it  would  be  some  hard-worked  London 
Priest,  toiling  single-handed  among  his  thousands 
and  thinking  "No  one  cares,"  who  found  in  hef 
not  only  a  listener  but  a  sympathising  friend;  one 
who  did  not  forget  but  would  forward  his  plans 
and  had  the  rare  gift  of  setting  other  people  to 
work. 

During  the  Cattle  Plague  she  established  a 
whole  family  at  the  Castle,  a  mother  and  five  or 
six  children,  to  relieve  the  hard-hit  gentleman 
farmer  of  interruptions  and  financial  anxieties. 

The  Head  Mistress  of  a  School  near  Tavistock, 
in  despair  how  to  dispose  of  one  of  her  teachers — 
ill,  poor  and  friendless — as  a  forlorn  hope  wrote 
to  Mrs.  Gladstone  because  she  had  heard  of  her 
as  kind,  and  then  to  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  as 


(^OOD  COotb0  249 

wife  of  the  landowner.  From  the  duchess  she  re- 
ceived a  ten-pound  cheque;  from  Mrs.  Gladstone 
a  letter — "Send  her  off  to  Hawarden  to-morrow." 

•     •     • 

From  the  House  of  Charity  in  Soho  she  carried 
off  a  poor  Parson,  sick  with  scarlet  fever,  and  estab- 
lished him  in  her  own  house  in  Carlton  Terrace. 

A  Sister  of  Mercy's  life?  Yes,  and  besides 
this— 

"Great  duties  to  be  greatly  done — " 

there  was  the  life  of  a  great  lady,  moving  in  a 
world  of  parties  and  social  claims,  with  a  husband 
the  foremost  figure  in  politics,  whose  every  interest 
she  shared,  whose  health  and  strength  she  gar- 
nered. 

It  is  hardly  right  to  open  the  door  of  home  life, 
yet  could  one  know  her  without  doing  so?  Ha- 
warden Castle!  How  the  name  suggests  all  the 
charm  and  serenity  of  home!  It  was  well  said  in 
the  diary  of  one  who  came  there  for  the  first  time 
— "Thou  hast  set  my  foot  in  a  large  room" — so 
fresh  and  sweet  and  spacious  was  the  atmosphere. 
Her  own  children,  her  children's  children,  the 
host  of  nephews  and  nieces  to  whom  she  was  a 
Mother  and  gathered  into  the  warm  circle  of  her 
love,  the  children  of  old  friends  and  any  lonely 


250  g^rs,  (^laDStone 

soul  of  any  class  whom  she  could  cherish.  These 
as  well  as  all  that  was  brilliant,  zealous  and  in- 
spiring in  the  life  of  that  day,  good,  or  to  be 
helped  to  be  good,  that  was  the  essence  of  it  all. 
Religion,  not  forced,  not  obtruded,  but  as  natural 
and  vital  as  fresh  air  was,  not  an  adjunct  of  life, 
but  life  itself. 

In  her  own  devotions,  in  the  daily  Services  of 
the  Church,  in  many  a  Eucharist,  did  Catherine 
Gladstone  renew  her  soul's  life  and  increase  the 
Charity  and  the  delightful  gaiety  of  her  tempera- 
ment, and  from  the  Spirit  of  Wisdom  learn  those 
intuitions  which  so  rarely  failed  her.  It  seemed 
but  natural  that  her  last  spoken  words  were,  "I 
must  not  be  late  for  Church." 

There  was  a  something  vital,  tender,  and  wise 
in  her  spirit  which  lives  on.  .  .  . 

".  .  .  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet  and  blossom  in  the  dust." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

REMINISCENCES 

"Perfect   wife,    a  tender  Mother, 
Scarcely  shall  we  fine  another 

Equal  to  her. 
To  the  Almighty  reverence  due, 
She  slowly  tendered,   friendship  true, 

To  all  who  knew  her." 

MANY  thrilling  experiences  crowd  in 
upon  the  mind  as  we  look  back  across 
the  years.  Moments  of  intense  emo- 
tion in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning,  when  a  few 
of  us  would  find  ourselves  gathered  together  in 
the  Carlton  Terrace  house,  after  some  kindling 
debate,  or  some  crucial  division.  A  stray  Whip  or 
so  on  his  way  back  from  the  House,  possibly 
George  Glyn;  a  secretary  or  an  enthusiastic  M.  P. 
— Freddy  and  Lucy  Cavendish  oftenest  of  all,  as 
their  house  was  opposite  ours,  dropping  in  to  re- 
joice or  condole,  to  share  in  victory  or  defeat,  in 
exhilaration  or  depression;  some  great  cause  lost 
(for  the  time)  or  won.  .  .  .  The  view  across  the 
Park  from  the  windows  of  our  house,  in  the  early 

251 


252  90t$*  (DIaDstone 

morning,  dwells  in  the  memory  as  one  of  singular 
beauty — the  mass  of  foliage  in  the  foreground,  the 
towers  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  and  the  Abbey 
rising  above  the  trees,  the  mysterious  light,  the 
whisper  of  the  leaves,  the  magic  of  the  dawn. 

Again  there  is  the  crowd  of  passionate  Reform- 
ers in  June,  1866.  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  alone  in 
the  house  with  three  or  four  members  of  the  fam- 
ily. There  were  cheers  and  shouts  for  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. His  Reform  Bill,  ten  days  earlier,  had  been 
beaten  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  the  defection 
of  some  members  of  his  own  party.  The  working 
classes  had  awakened  to  the  fact  that  here  was  a 
man,  the  first  official  statesman,  who  was  ready  to 
live  or  die  for  them.  He  was  beaten.  His  Gov- 
ernment had  resigned.  But  in  perhaps  the  most 
inspired  speech  ever  delivered  in  the  House  of 
Commons: 

"You  cannot  fight  against  the  Future,"  he  said, 
with  a  splendid  sweep  of  his  arm.  "Time  is  on 
our  side.  The  great  social  forces  that  move  on- 
ward in  their  might  and  majesty,  and  which  the 
tumult  of  our  debates  cannot  impede  or  disturb — 
they  are  marshalled  on  our  side;  the  banner  which 
we  now  carry  in  this  fight,  though  at  some  moment 
it  may  droop  over  our  sinking  heads,  will  soon 
again  float  in  the  eye  of  Heaven  and  will  be  borne 


lRemini0cence0  253 

in  the  hands  of  the  united  people,  perhaps  not  to 
an  easy,  but  to  a  certain  and  to  a  not  far  distant 
victory." 

Words  worthy  to  rank  with  Lincoln's  immortal 
speech  at  Gettysburg,  and  kindling  the  same  touch 
of  freedom.^ 

"Here,"  says  Lord  Morley,  "the  forecast  was 
not  a  phrase,  but  a  battle  cry — it  revealed  a  cause 
and  a  man."  Mr.  Gladstone's  Government  re- 
signed office,  but  his  prophetic  vision  was  fulfilled 
and  the  banner  again  uplifted  even  sooner  than  he 
knew.  The  Reform  Bill  that  became  law  in  the 
following  year  was  the  fulfilment  of  his  prophecy. 

Meanwhile  on  the  night  of  June  28th  the  road 
in  front  of  their  house  was  blocked  by  an  excited 
crowd  persistently  calling  on  him  to  appear.  He 
was  absent  from  home.  Finally  the  Police  officers 
sent  word  to  Mrs.  Gladstone  that  if  only  she  would 
show  herself  upon  the  balcony,  the  crowd  would 
quietly  go  home.  This  she  did,  inadvertently 
drawing  upon  herself,  as  his  representative,  the 
passionate  enthusiasm  of  the  people. 

A  characteristic  incident  took  place  in  Downing 
Street  about  the  year  1881,  which  though  trivial 
in    itself,    is    worth    recording    for    its    hint    of 

'This  nation,  under  God,  shall  have  a  new  birth  of  freedom;  that 
government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  for  the  people  shall  not 
perish  from  the  earth. 


254  git$»  (©laDstone 

prophecy.  A  big  official  banquet  was  taking  place 
in  the  large  dining-room,  then  only  used  on  formal 
occasions,  this  being  the  preface  to  an  evening 
party.  Mr.  Balfour's  sisters,  Eleanor  and  Alice, 
were  dining  quietly  at  No.  lo  with  Mrs.  Glad- 
stone and  her  daughters.  There  was  a  snug  little 
room  downstairs,  next  door  to  the  Cabinet  room, 
where  we  dined.  In  the  evening  we  were  sitting 
cosily  talking  round  the  drawing-room  fire  with 
little  consciousness  of  the  evening  party.  Mrs. 
Gladstone,  more  or  less  in  deshabille,  reposing  on 
the  sofa,  her  daughter-in-law  fast  asleep  on  an- 
other sofa.  Suddenly  the  door  opened — "Sir  Jo- 
seph and  Lady  Hooker,"  ^  announced  the  butler 
in  loud  tones.  The  evening  party  had  begun.  The 
time  had  flown  quickly.  We  were  not  even 
dressed.  Mrs.  Gladstone  awakened  out  of  sound 
slumber,  noiselessly  melted,  by  another  door,  out 
of  the  room.  Her  daughters,  whispering  to  the 
Balfours — "You  must  be  hostesses,"  did  likewise. 
Little  did  we  then  foresee  the  time,  nearly  twenty 
years  ahead,  when  Mr.  Balfour  as  First  Lord  of 
the  Treasury,  would  be  residing  in  lo  Downing 
Street,  and  would,  with  his  sister,  be  receiving 
at  an  evening  party — possibly  the  famous  gar- 
dener himself — but  anyway  their  own  guests. 

*  Head  of  Kew  Gardens. 


Eemfnf0cence0  255 

And  the  final  farewell  in  Downing  Street.  That 
is  a  haunting  memory,  but  not  without  its  touch 
of  joy.  It  was  the  12th  of  March — Mr.  Gladstone 
had  paid  his  last  official  visit  to  the  Queen,  and 
was  no  longer  Prime  Minister.  He  had  resigned 
and  the  last  day  had  come.  The  carriage  was  at 
the  door;  disconsolate  figures  were  wandering 
restlessly  about  the  familiar  rooms,  Secretaries, 
servants,  officials.  Mr.  Gladstone  always  occu- 
pied to  the  very  last  moment;  his  wife  bidding 
good-bye  to  faithful  friends,  her  face  sad  and  wist- 
ful and,  as  someone  remarked  at  the  time,  looking 
as  if  her  mainspring  was  broken.  As  an  accom- 
paniment a  child's  clear  voice  rang  out  from  the 
staircase.  This  was  the  little  granddaughter 
whose  home  was  theirs  so  long  as  they  lived.  She 
had  struck  four  the  previous  day,  and  been  deco- 
rated with  a  birthday  wreath  of  flowers.  Uncon- 
scious of  the  historic  scene  in  which  she  was  shar- 
ing she  sat  patiently  on  the  stairs  waiting  for  the 
start  and  occupying  the  time  in  singing  the  Easter 
Hymn.  The  Hallelujahs  formed  a  kind  of  Greek 
Chorus  to  the  farewells.  .  .  . 

Only  once  again  did  they  visit  Downing  Street. 
On  June  22,  1895,  news  reached  the  Tantallon 
Castle,^  as  she  drew  near  to  England,  of  the  defeat 

*  The  ship  in  which  we  were  the  guests  of  Sir  Donald  Currie. 


256  git0.  (S^IaDstone 

of  the  Liberal  Government.  A  telegram  from 
Lord  Rosebery  was  handed  to  Mrs.  Gladstone  be- 
fore we  disembarked,  containing  an  invitation  to 
dine  with  him  that  night.  It  was  interesting  once 
more  to  see  them  there  in  the  familiar  rooms.  Illu- 
minated by  Lord  Rosebery's  irresistible  charm,  we 
had  a  most  delightful  evening,  the  late  and  the 
present  Prime  Ministers  being  merry  as  boys  out 
of  school.  We  dined  in  the  beautiful  room,  used 
latterly  by  Mr.  Gladstone  for  Cabinet  Councils 
(my  own  pretty  sitting-room  now  becoming — as 
in  Lord  Beaconsfield's  day^  the  Prime  Minister's 
bedroom.)  And  so  ended,  quietly  and  undramatic- 
ally,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone's  connection  with 
the  historic  building. 

The  spring  and  summer  spent  at  Dollis  Hill, 
after  Mr.  Gladstone's  resignation  in  1894,  was  a 
wonderfully  happy  and  interesting  time.  The  most 
fervent  words  of  gratitude  to  Lord  and  Lady  Aber- 
deen could  never  adequately  express  the  blessing 
and  refreshment  of  that  perfect  haven.  For  nearly 
fifteen  years,  it  was  ready  on  any  day  at  any  mo- 
ment to  receive  them,  whether  their  hosts  were 
there  or  not.  In  countless  letters  Mrs.  Gladstone 
relates  the  joy  of  escaping  out  of  the  turmoil,  so 

*We  used  to  invite  visitors  to  salute  the  mark  on  the  floor  made 
by  his  bed. 


Heminf0cence0  257 

near  to  London,  yet  so  far,  peaceful  as  in  the  depths 
of  the  country.  You  drove  from  the  Marble  Arch 
three  or  four  miles  along  the  Edgeware  Road; 
presently  green  fields  and  hedges  took  the  place  of 
shops  and  houses.  A  deep  country  lane  on  the 
left  brought  you  quickly  to  its  gates.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gladstone  both  revelled  in  its  restfulness, 
in  its  welcoming  aspect.  And  in  1894  it  broke  the 
sudden  departure  from  the  absorbing  interest  of 
their  public  life;  it  floated  him  through  the  trying 
weeks  before  the  operation  for  cataract.  It  en- 
abled them  to  entertain  relations  and  friends,  and 
almost  literally  to  live  out  of  doors.  She  had  a 
way  of  suddenly  getting  whole  stacks  of  furni- 
ture into  the  garden — sofas,  screens,  chairs,  and 
tables.  She  would  have  been  a  capital  foreman  to 
the  scene  shifters  at  a  theatre.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Chamberlain  were  coming  one  day,  and  in  a  twink- 
ling, the  dining-room  table  was  out  under  the 
trees,  and  luncheon  was  laid.  Lady  Sarah  Spen- 
cer, with  her  specially  clear  voice  and  enunciation, 
often  came  to  read  aloud,  while  the  eyes  were  hors 
de  combat,  and  many  and  various  were  the  de- 
lightful and  interesting  people  that  came  down  to 
visit  them. 

On  June  24th,  the  day  the  French  President, 
Monsieur  Carnot,  was  assassinated,  a  friend  came 


258  ^t0»  (Dlati0tone 

down  to  luncheon.  All  the  morning  the  little 
granddaughter  had  been  busy  with  the  funeral  of 
a  dead  robin;  a  cross  of  flowers  was  laid  on  its 
grave.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  asking  of  his  guest  ear- 
nest questions  about  the  dead  President — "Tell 
me,"  he  said,  "did  he  die  a  Christian?" 

"Does  he  mean  the  robin?"  whispered  the  child. 

About  a  month  after  the  operation  on  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's eyes,  the  doctors  came  down  to  examine 
the  sight — the  spectacles  were  tried  on,  the  book 
was  opened.  Mrs.  Gladstone  stood  close  to  him. 
All  were  full  of  hope.  But  he  could  not  see,  he 
could  not  read  the  print.  There  was  a  tragic 
pause,  broken  by  his  voice 

"This  is  a  blow — for  the  oculists." 

No  word  of  murmur  passed  his  lips.  Time 
proved  to  be  the  healer,  and  when  Mr.  Nettleship 
came  later  on  to  Hawarden,  the  eye  from  which 
the  cataract  had  been  removed,  worked  perfectly 
for  reading  and  writing,  and  the  eye  that  had  not 
been  touched,  served  him  for  all  other  purposes. 

And  now,  perhaps,  for  a  moment,  I  may  indulge 
in  a  reminiscence  of  my  own;  for  it  throws  some 
light  on  the  way  in  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone 
brought  up  their  children.  He  was  in  the  Govern- 
ment years  before  any  of  us  were  born;  we  were 
never  conscious  of  him   as  anything  out  of  the 


Mrs.  Gladstone  at  Dollis  Hill,  with  her 
Grand-daughter,  Dorothy  Drew 

1894 


Eeminf0cencei9i  259 

common;  as  a  rising  man,  step  by  step  attaining 
pre-eminence  among  his  fellows.  Not  many 
years  ago  I  was  staying  in  a  house  in  Westmin- 
ster on  the  opening  night  of  the  Session.  The 
master  of  the  house  had  become  a  Member 
of  Parliament.  The  children  were  in  bed.  Their 
mother  woke  them  out  of  their  sleep,  and  led  them 
to  the  window  and  showed  them  the  light  burn- 
ing in  the  Clock  Tower:  "Do  you  know  what 
that  light  means?"  she  said.  "It  means  that  Father 
is  there  helping  to  make  laws  for  England." 

It  struck  me  as  a  loss  that  our  Mother  had  not 
stimulated  our  imagination  in  this  way.  With  us 
it  was  a  case  of  a  prophet  not  without  honour  save 
in  his  own  country.  His  sun  had  already  risen 
and  we  knew  it  not.  The  fact  of  his  being  a  Cabi- 
net Minister  foremost  among  his  colleagues,  never 
impressed  itself  upon  us  as  any  special  honour  or 
glory.  It  never  crossed  my  mind  that  other  peo- 
ple's fathers  were  not  just  the  same.  All  my 
friends,  I  thought,  had  the  same  sort  of  father.  It 
was  a  cause  of  wonder  to  me  when  those  who  came 
to  the  house,  specially  our  cousins,  treated  him 
with  awe  and  reverence,  listening  to  every  word 
that  fell  from  his  lips.  Indeed,  we  treated  him 
with  scant  courtesy;  argued  across  him  while  he 
was  talking;  contradicted  him.    Both  our  parents 


260  ®r0»  aiaD0tone 

were  extraordinarily  simple  and  never  seemed  con- 
scious of  occupying  an  exceptional  plane.  In  one 
of  Lord  Acton's  letters,  he  speaks  of  his  influence 
as  greatest  on  multitudes,  less  in  society — least  at 
home.  He  contrasts  it  with  the  Tennyson  home: 
"I  could  not  stay  with  the  lofty  entities  that  sur- 
round Tennyson,  even  when  he  butters  toast." 

It  is  true  that,  in  later  years,  some  of  the  Hawar- 
den  guests  were  half  startled  and  shocked  by  the 
freedom  of  criticism  that  reigned  in  the  family 
circle.  The  balance  was  redressed  when  outside 
the  home — to  the  world  we  have  always  shown  a 
united  and  impregnable  front!  But  at  home  we 
discussed  things  almost  on  terms  of  equality. 

It  bored  him  to  hear  people  apologetically  dif- 
fer: ''My  dearest  love,  I  really  think  you  are 
wrong."  He  thought  it  more  to  the  point  to  be 
short  and  sharp — "A  lie!"  It  is  impossible  to  for- 
get Lord  Morley's  face  when  he  first  heard  one  of 
us  say  to  Mr.  Gladstone — ''A  lie!"  And  it  always 
succeeded.  It  was  an  unfailing  amusement  and 
put  everyone  in  good  humour. 

I  recall  the  very  spot  on  the  steps  of  the  porch 
by  which  the  Castle  is  entered,  where  it  was  sud- 
denly borne  in  upon  me  how  our  eyes  were  holden. 
I  had  been  out  walking  with  a  girl  friend,  Mar- 
garet Leicester  Warren — a  hereditary  friendship, 


Eemini0cencej8!  261 

her  parents  being  great  friends  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gladstone.  She  paused.  "You  know,"  she  said, 
"I  think  Mr.  Gladstone  much  the  greatest  man  in 
the  world,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  he  is  not  the 
greatest  man  who  ever  lived." 

It  was  an  intense  moment  of  revelation  to  a 
daughter,  and  not  very  long  after  the  impression 
received  its  seal  in  a  conversation  with  Lord  Ac- 
ton. 

Yet  though  love,  on  the  part  of  their  children, 
cast  out  all  fear,  the  attitude  of  their  minds  to- 
wards their  parents  was  of  a  very  different  nature 
from  that  of  the  present  generation. 

The  relations  between  one  generation  and  an- 
other had  not  become  nearly  so  strained  as  in  these 
present  days.  There  was  more  identity  in  the 
point  of  view;  the  spirit  of  investigation  was  more 
generally  dormant;  things  were  taken  for  granted; 
traditions  accepted;  other  people's  homes  were  not 
necessarily  superior  to  our  own.  "Honour  your 
father  and  mother,"  was  accepted  in  the  spirit  and 
the  letter.  School  and  University  experiences  did 
not  necessarily  bring  severance,  or  even  estrange- 
ment, between  mothers  and  sons.  The  deeply  in- 
teresting study  of  the  relations  between  one  gen- 
eration and  another,  in  the  present  day  so  much 
discussed  in  novels  of  note,  would  scarcely  have 


2^2  ^r0»  (^IaD0tone 

fitted  in  those  days.  There  was  too  much  esprit 
de  corps.  The  tone,  the  standard,  set  by  the  par- 
ents was  followed  unquestioningly  by  their  chil- 
dren. Their  aims  were  the  same,  they  saw  the 
same  vision. 

How  much  more  there  is  to  be  thought  and  said 
on  this  subject  but  it  would  be  out  of  place  here. 

Of  her  inner  life,  this  book  tries  to  give  a  few 
glimpses.  Of  the  sorrows  and  losses  inevitable  in 
so  long  a  period  of  time,  there  were  three  that  cut 
her  to  the  very  quick — the  death  of  the  child  al- 
ready mentioned — the  death  of  her  sister  in  Au- 
gust, 1857 — the  death  of  her  eldest  son  in  1891. 
Other  sorrows  there  were,  the  loss  of  brothers, 
parents,  relatives,  friends.  But  these  three  were 
different  not  only  in  degree  but  in  kind.  One  of 
the  Lyttelton  twelve,  then  a  boy  of  thirteen,  to  this 
hour  remembers  the  strange,  wistful,  almost  hun- 
gry look  in  her  eyes  as  she  gazed  and  gazed  in  his 
face,  striving  to  recognise  in  him  some  image  of 
his  Mother — a  look  that  impressed,  haunted  yet 
baffled  him,  significant  of  an  emotion  too  deep  and 
too  poignant  for  him  to  fathom. 

It  was  no  ordinary  link  that  bound  these  two 
sisters.  Of  Mary  it  was  once  said  that  always  "she 
made  a  sunshine  in  a  shady  place."  On  entering 
a  room  it  was  impossible  not  to  be  aware  of  her 


iaemini0cence0  263 

presence,  such  light  and  sweetness  did  it  bring  to 
the  atmosphere.  Possibly  something  of  the  beauty 
of  her  disposition,  the  high  sense  of  honour  and  of 
duty,  the  capacity  for  love  and  sacrifice,  may  be 
guessed  from  the  lives  and  characters  of  her  chil- 
dren, reflected  indeed  in  the  Lyttelton  twelve. 

As  we  have  already  seen  these  two  sisters  were 
one  in  thought  and  mind,  and  the  rending  asunder 
of  the  one  from  the  other  signified  a  wound  that 
no  time  would  heal.  "Oh,  if  I  were  to  see  you  in 
this  state,"  said  the  dying  sister,  as  she  gazed  at 
Catherine  with  infinite  love  and  longing,  ^^I  think 
it  would  break  my  heart."  And  again,  "I  cannot 
possibly  imagine  you  on  earth  without  me." 

It  was  soon  after  the  birth  of  Alfred,  the  young- 
est of  the  twelve,  that  her  health  began  to  fail,  and 
for  many  weeks  Catherine  was  at  Hagley,  taking 
a  large  share  in  the  nursing — there  were  no  pro- 
fessional nurses  in  those  days.  In  her  own  words 
written  at  the  time — "After  receiving  the  Holy 
Communion  her  calmness  was  extraordinary  and 
she  even  said  to  me  she  Vould  not  wish  to  come 
back  again.' 

O  Lord,  my  God,  do  Thou  Thy  Holy  Will. 
I  will  lie  still. 

All  discomposure  and  anxiety  had  left  her.  The 
Blessed  Sacrament  was  life  and  sustenance,  carry- 


264  ^r$»  aiaDStone 

ing  her  through  the  dark  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death.  She  had  left  all  her  cares  to  Him  who 
careth  for  her." 

The  peace  and  beauty  of  the  last  days,  the  little 
traits  of  fun  that  carried  her  through  the  suffer- 
ing, the  gratitude,  and  almost  enjoyment  of  any 
little  alleviation,  the  look  of  fulfilment  on  her  face 
after  death,  lifted  the  infinite  sense  of  love  and 
loss  on  the  part  of  those  that  watched  and  mourned, 
to  the  highest  spiritual  level.  And  the  maiming 
and  crushing  of  her  heart  brought  out 'special 
sweetness  and  endurance  in  the  sister  w^ho  was 
left.  But  there  is  no  doubt  it  was  one  of  those 
heart-searching  sorrows,  from  which  there  is,  in 
this  world,  no  real  recovery.  Pain  lives  with  us 
and  becomes  part  and  parcel  of  our  being;  we 
grow  accustomed  to  its  burden  and  its  sting.  But 
this  in  no  way  signifies  the  healing  of  the  wound 
and  with  Mrs.  Gladstone  it  was  lifelong.  Many, 
many  years  later  she  wrote  to  her  daughter,  de- 
scribing the  pain  she  had  to  endure  while  a  friend, 
sitting  by  her  side  at  a  dinner  party,  persisted  in 
speaking  of  Lady  Lyttelton,  questioning  her  of  her 
sister — and  how  she  could  not  bear  it. 

It  is  sometimes  thought  that  old  age  brings 
gradual  immunity  from  suffering,  that  its  edge  is 
blunted,  that  the  feeling  of  loss  is  blurred.    This 


iaemini0cence0  265 

may  be  so,  but  it  was  by  no  means  the  case  with 
Mrs.  Gladstone  in  1891.  From  the  moment  her 
son  became  ill  in  1890,  "she  went  heavily  as  one 
that  mourneth  for  his  mother."  Anyone  would 
feel  she  was  changed,  that  she  carried  a  heart  sore- 
ly wounded;  the  buoyancy  was  gone,  brave  though 
she  might  be  in  trying  to  hide  her  sorrow. 

Some  time  after  his  death,  her  daughter  one  day 
discovered  some  photographs  of  him  in  a  drawer 
in  her  Mother's  room.  She  asked  leave  to  take 
them  away  and  get  them  framed  and  placed  on 
her  writing-table.  "You  will  think  me  such  a 
coward,"  she  said  with  an  inexpressible  look  of 
pain,  "but  I  keep  them  hidden  on  purpose,  because 
I  have  not  the  courage  to  look  at  them." 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Mrs.  Gladstone's  su- 
preme devotion  to  her  husband  and  her  profound 
belief  in  the  principles  that  guided  him,  made  her 
very  impatient  with  those  who  differed  from  him 
on  fundamental  questions  of  policy. 

Therefore  it  was  but  natural  that  when  a 
nephew,  specially  dear  to  her  as  youngest  son  of 
her  cherished  sister,  came  to  Hawarden  for  Christ- 
mas (1894-5)  and  with  his  irresistible  smile,  light- 
heartedly  announced  to  the  family  that  he  had 
joined  the  Unionist  ranks,  that  she  was  at  first 
greatly  shocked  and  pained.     She  and  her  sons 


2QQ  Q^t0.  aiaD0tone 

and  daughters,  in  fact,  felt  it  far  more  acutely  than 
did  the  head  of  the  family.  One  of  them  in  par- 
ticular, to  whom  through  life  he  had  confided  his 
inner  history,  personal  and  political,  was  as  ut- 
terly in  the  dark  as  the  rest,  though  the  frequency 
and  intimacy  of  their  intercourse  had  not  been  re- 
laxed throughout  the  preceding  summer.  And  in- 
deed he  had  been  the  first  of  the  clan  who  in  1885 
bravely  cast  in  his  lot  for  a  Parliament  in  College 
Green,  and  had  approved  of  the  Home  Rule  Bills 
of  1886  and  1893.  This  is  not  the  time  to  examine 
his  reasons,  but  it  was  more  a  drift  than  a  principle 
— though  the  growing  power  of  the  proletariat 
made  him  increasingly  uneasy — more  personal 
than  political.  But  after  Mr.  Gladstone's  resigna- 
tion, the  Liberal  party  was  at  its  lowest  ebb;  it  was 
in  dire  need  of  the  loyal  service  of  every  one  of  its 
members. 

And  as  he  came  nearer  to  his  ninetieth  year,  and 
the  sands  of  life  seemed  to  glide  through  the  hour- 
glass with  ever  greater  rapidity,  in  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's own  estimation  every  moment  of  his  time 
seemed  to  intensify  in  value.  When  he  only  dis- 
covered, at  the  end  of  a  lengthy  discussion  in  the 
Temple  of  Peace,  that  the  matter  was  already  set- 
tled, the  die  was  cast,  it  was  not  to  be  wondered 


Hemini$cence0  267 

at  that  he  was  nettled,  that  he  resented  the  waste 
of  his  precious  time. 

It  is  quite  true  that  Mr.  Gladstone  frequently 
took  agreement  for  granted,  that  he  mistook  si- 
lence for  consent,  and  swept  his  interlocutor  into 
his  own  net.  In  matters  of  principle — and  with 
him  every  question  was  brought  to  the  touchstone 
of  conscience — he  was  wont  to  assume  that  others 
were  moved  by  the  principles  he  regarded  as  fun- 
damental. After  his  death  a  sheet  of  paper  was 
discovered  among  his  letters,  containing  a  list  of 
names.  It  was  headed,  "Those  who  have  dis- 
agreed with  me,"  and  at  its  foot  were  words  to 
this  effect — "Good  for  me  to  remember  what  nota- 
ble people  have  differed  from  me."  And  accord- 
ingly, to  those  who  in  all  honesty,  had  reached  con- 
clusions contrary  to  his  own,  no  one  could  have 
been  more  trustful,  more  generous.  On  one  occa- 
sion when  a  friend  confessed  to  him  that  had  he 
been  in  Parliament  he  could  not  have  seen  his 
way  to  support  the  Home  Rule  Bill,  the  quietness 
and  gentleness  with  which  Mr.  Gladstone  received 
the  news  greatly  astonished  his  friend.  When 
his  niece,^  referring  to  some  backing  he  was  ac- 
cording to  Mr.  Chamberlain: — 

"Oh,  Uncle  William,  you  really  are  the  most 

*Lady  F.  CavendisL 


268  ^t0»  aiaDstone 

magnanimous  person  in  the  world!"  ^What  do 
you  mean?"  he  said.  ''Chamberlain  was  always 
very  kind  to  me — he  has  behaved  ill  to  Ireland  but 
never  to  me."  Yet  Chamberlain,  in  1874,  had  de- 
scribed his  Election  address  as  "the  meanest  docu- 
ment that  ever  proceeded  from  the  pen  of  a  states- 
man." Abuse  of  this  kind  went  in  at  one  ear, 
and  has  been  well  said,  came  out  at  the  same. 

Lord  Morley  has  placed  it  on  record  that  Mrs. 
Gladstone  once  came  to  his  room,  "and  said  how 
glad  she  was  I  had  not  scrupled  to  put  unpleas- 
ant points  before  her  husband,  that  Mr.  Gladstone 
must  not  be  shielded  and  sheltered  as  some  great 
people  are,  who  hear  all  the  pleasant  things  and 
none  of  the  unpleasant.  That  the  perturbation  is 
but  short-lived.  She  added,  'He  is  never  made 
angry  by  what  you  say.'  " 

It  was  the  belief  of  many  people  that  Mrs. 
Gladstone  was  ever  on  the  watch  to  soothe  and 
quiet  her  husband,  to  persuade  him  to  give  up,  to 
retire  into  private  life — that  he  was  always  keen 
for  action,  for  power,  eager  for  the  fight.  There 
was  an  impression  abroad  that  her  one  aim  and 
idea  was  to  induce  people  never  to  disagree  with 
him.  *^We  never  contradict  Mr.  Gladstone,"  she 
is  supposed  to  have  said  at  a  dinner  party.  Noth- 
ing can  be  further  from  the  truth.    She  knew  bet- 


Heminiscenceg  269 

ter  than  anyone  how  carefully  he  refrained  from 
reading  books  and  papers  eulogistic  of  himself, 
e.g.,  he  never  read  Lord  Acton's  letters  to  his 
daughter  or,  in  the  Prime  Minister  Series,  his  own 
life  by  G.  W.  E.  Russell.  But  he  always  selected 
and  studied  inimical  criticism,  disagreement  with 
his  own  views,  as  wholesome  and  humbling  and 
still  more  as  revealing  ideas  that  had  possibly  not 
occurred  to  him.  It  was  he  who  ached  for  re- 
tirement, she  who  encouraged  him  to  remain.  To 
her  his  longing  for  resignation  was  frankly  a  great 
trial.  She  made  no  secret  of  it.  She  loved  the 
atmosphere,  the  stimulus  of  battle,  she  was  ever 
eager  for  the  fray  and,  from  her  own  point  of 
view,  she  would  have  longed  for  him  to  die  in 
harness. 

In  July,  1894,  they  were  in  Scotland,  Mr.  Ar- 
mitstead  piloting  them  to  Pitlochry,  in  company 
with  Lord  Acton. 

August  found  them  once  more  at  Hawarden, 
the  home  that  had  been  theirs  all  along,  where 
they  were  peacefully  to  end  their  lives.  The  be- 
loved home  that  had  been  hers  from  her  cradle 
to  the  end.  Few  there  can  be  who  throughout  life 
could  have  been  surrounded  and  cherished  by  so 
many  members  of  her  family,  four  generations  of 


270  ^ts.  <^laD0tone 

whom  lived  by  turns  at  Hawarden,  near  her  or 
with  her. 

After  1839,  when  not  at  Hagley  or  London  or 
Fasque,  she  and  Mr.  Gladstone  lived  at  the  Castle, 
with  her  unmarried  brother,  while  Henry  was  at 
the  Rectory.  In  spite  of  the  great  financial  crisis 
that  overwhelmed  the  Glynnes  about  the  year  1847, 
they  continued  to  reside  there,  and  indeed  if  it  had 
not  been  for  Mr.  Gladstone,  it  would  probably 
have  been  necessary  for  Sir  Stephen  to  sell  the 
Castle  and  the  whole,  instead  of  only  part,  of  the 
estate.  In  1872  died  her  favourite  brother  Henry 
Glynne;  in  1874  came  the  further  blow  of  Sir 
Stephen's  death.  Her  eldest  son  on  his  Uncle's 
death  became  owner  of  Hawarden.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gladstone,  having  a  life  interest  in  the 
Castle,  remained  in  possession  for  the  remain- 
der of  their  lives — about  a  quarter  of  a  century. 
The  near  neighbourhood  of  their  two  elder  sons 
and  their  families,  the  holiday  visits  of  the  Wick- 
ham  children  and  their  parents  added  not  a  little 
to  the  happiness,  the  pleasure,  and  interest  of  all 
concerned.  Their  eldest  daughter  married  in 
1873  E-  C.  Wickham,^  Head  Master  of  Wellington 
College.  Helen  entered  Newnham  College  as  a 
student  in  1878  and  left  it  as  Vice-Principal  in 

*  Afterwards  Dean  of  Lincoln. 


Hemini0cence0  271 

December,  1896,  spending  the  vacations  at  home. 

Herbert,  the  only  one  born  to  the  roll  of  the 
drum  in  Downing  Street,  spent  every  spare  mo- 
ment of  his  time  at  Hawarden — he  was  indeed 
through  life  the  light  of  her  eyes,  as  is  often  the 
case  with  the  youngest  child. 

It  would  not  be  possible  for  the  daughter,  who 
with  her  husband  ^  resided  at  the  Castle,  to  describe 
their  relations  with  her  parents — they  were  too 
near,  too  sacred.  She  also  enjoyed  the  inestima- 
ble privilege  of  never  leaving  her  home,  before  or 
after  marriage,  as  long  as  her  Father  and  Mother 
lived,  and  the  child  ^  who  came  in  1890,  was  dar- 
ling of  their  old  age,  the  sunshine  of  their  eyes. 

It  was  the  habit  of  their  lives  to  go  every  day 
to  Church  before  breakfast.  They  enjoyed  the 
walk,  nearly  a  mile  up  hill,  in  the  early  fresh- 
ness of  the  morning,  and  winter  or  summer,  storm 
or  sunshine,  saw  them  going  to  worship  in  Hawar- 
den Church,  Mrs.  Gladstone  scattering  the  path 
with  the  letters  which  she  read  on  the  way.  Not 
even  the  early  cup  of  tea,  indispensable  to  most 
people,  broke  their  fast. 

I  remember  the  very  first  sign  of  some  diminu- 
tion of  strength  when  one  day,  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
three  or  eighty-four,  he  said: — 

*Rev.  Harry  Drew,  married  Mary  Feb.  2,  1886. 
'Dorothy  Mary  Catherine. 


212  ^x%.  aiali0tone 

"I  am  afraid  I  must  ask  you  to  keep  Petz  from 
coming  to  Church  with  me," — Petz  was  the  fa- 
vourite Pomeranian  dog,  immortalised  by  a  poem 
in  Punch,  who  lay  every  morning  on  the  mat  at 
his  dressing-room  door  waiting  for  him  to  start. 

''You  see  I  have  to  throw  sticks  for  him  to  pick 
up,  and  stooping  every  other  minute  to  get  it  and 
then  throw  it,  is  too  hard  work  on  the  hill." 

And  so,  by  Doctor's  orders,  they  changed  the 
early  Service  for  Evensong. 

Well,  after  eighty  they  breakfasted  in  bed,  not 
rising  till  ten  o'clock. 

They  did  enjoy  it! 

From  1894  onwards,  a  period  of  great  tranquil- 
lity set  in,  but  at  no  time  could  it  be  said  that  it 
was  ever  dull  or  uninteresting  or  that  it  was  with- 
out its  dramatic  moments. 

About  a  year  and  a  half  before  Mr.  Gladstone's 
death,  Mr.  Balfour  came  once  more.  His  first 
visit  to  Hawarden  was  in  1870,  when  he  stayed 
for  a  fortnight.  "He  relapsed  quickly  into  the  old 
cosy  footing — no  sense  of  restraint  or  stiffness.  It 
might  have  been  1870  again,  as  regards  the  old 
friendliness.  In  those  days  he  was  unknown;  to- 
day he  is  the  Leader  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
The  talk  at  dinner  was  lively,  the  late  and  the  fu- 
ture Prime  Minister  discussing  the  nightly  letter 


Eeministcencesi  273 

of  the  Queen.  In  the  'seventies  he  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Gladstone  pretty  frequently;  it  is  a  real  misfortune 
that  these  letters  have  been  lost. 

In  the  summer  of  1875,  when  he  started  on  his 
round  the  world  tour,  she  gave  him  a  little  gold 
cross  for  his  watch  chain — it  still  hangs  there.  He 
was  always  specially  drawn  to  her  by  her  great 
qualities  of  heart  and  her  raciness  of  speech  and 
sense  of  fun. 

Then  there  was  the  unexpected  arrival  of  Li 
Hung  Chang;  the  long  pauses  while  he  struggled 
to  think  of  the  right  thing  to  say;  the  slowness  of 
the  interpreter,  and  the  clear  voice  of  Gilbert  Tal- 
bot ^ — then  five  years  old — ringing  through  the 
room — "How  long  is  this  going  to  last?" 

Li  refused  the  honour  of  being  carried  to  the 
dining-room,  unless  his  host  and  hostess  were  like- 
wise carried. 

And  the  great  shock  of  the  sudden  death  in  Ha- 
warden  Church  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

In  October,  1896,  he  and  Mrs.  Benson  had 
crossed  the  Irish  Channel,  reaching  Hawarden 
Castle  one  Saturday  evening.  On  the  Tuesday 
following  he  was  borne  from  the  Church  in  which 
he  had  died,  to  the  station  where  he  had  arrived 

*  Killed  in  action,  July,  1916. 


274  ^t$,  (^IaH0tone 

three  days  earlier,  on  the  way  to  Canterbury  for 
his  burial.  ... 

In  1897  the  Colonial  Prime  Ministers,  includ- 
ing Mr.  Seddon  and  Sir  Wilfrid  Laurier,  arrived 
at  Hawarden  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  earth. 

In  the  year  of  Queen  Victoria's  Jubilee,  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  came  to  luncheon,  a 
visit  which  gave  exquisite  pleasure  to  their  hosts. 

In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Gladstone  started  up  the 
hill  to  the  Old  Castle  with  the  Princess,  the  Prince 
walking  with  Mrs.  Gladstone.  On  reaching  the 
bridge  over  the  moat,  Mr.  Gladstone,  fresh  as  a 
three-year-old,  said,  "Shall  we  go  up  to  the  top?" 
Eager  for  the  fray,  she  sprang  forward,  but  first 
she  glanced  at  Mrs.  Gladstone  for  approval.  An 
almost  imperceptible  and  knowing  little  wink  was 
telegraphed  back  to  her — "Too  much  for  him." 

Quick  as  lightning  H.  R.  H.  replied,  "Oh,  Mr. 
Gladstone,  you  quite  forget  my  poor  leg."  It  was 
the  quickest  bit  of  twigging  I  ever  saw. 

The  quartette  were  photographed  and  the  fol- 
lowing day  came  a  letter  from  the  Princess  of 
Wales  containing  these  words: — 

"I  must  write  one  line  and  thank  both  you  and 
Mr.  Gladstone  (dear  William)  for  the  kind  re- 
ception you  gave  us  in  your  delightful  home. 


Reminiscences  275 

"We  shall  always  look  back  with  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  the  charming  day  spent  with  you,  sur- 
rounded by  your  children  and  grandchildren 
which  to  me  was  a  most  touching  sight." 

Many  were  the  friends  that  dropped  in — Lord 
Rosebery  with  his  boys,  Sir  Arthur  Godley  and" 
George  Russell,  H.  S.  Holland. 

Among  the  signatures  in  the  Hawarden  Visit- 
ors' Book,  several  of  which  occur  more  than  once, 
for  the  years  1894- 1900  ^^^  the  following: — 

Edward  and  Georgina  Burne  Jones,  John  Mor- 
ley,  Margaret  Stepney,  Algernon  West,  Arthur 
Godley,  Sybil  and  Margaret  Primrose,  Ronald 
Leveson-Gower,  Welby,  L.  Duchesne,  Arthur  C. 
Headlam,  William  Booth, ^  Aberdeen  and  Isabel 
Aberdeen,  Acton,  E.  W.  Hamilton,  Evelyn  de 
Vesci,  Tweedmouth,  Hugh  Currie,  G.  Armitstead, 
Sarah  Spencer,  Randall  Winton,  Arthur,  Hugh, 
and  E.  F.  Benson,  Arnold  Morley,  Laurence  Cur- 
rie, A.  G.  Asaph,  Harry  and  Neil  Primrose,  Ar- 
thur Blomfield,  E.  T.  Cook,  Breadalbane  and 
Alma  Breadalbane,  George  H.  Murray,  North- 
bourne,  A.  J.  Balfour,  H.  J.  Tennant,  Ripon  and 
H.  Ripon,  Walter  Phillimore,  Crewe,  Halifax, 
Wenlock,     George    Wyndham,     John     Sinclair, 

*  The  General  of  the  Salvation  Army. 


276  ^rs»  (^laDstone 

J-  M.  Carmichael,  Spencer  and  Charlotte  Spen- 
cer, J.  M.  C.  Crum,  Mary  Crum,  Lucy  Graham 
Smith — with  a  full  accompaniment  of  Lyttelton 
and  Gladstone,  and  Miss  Phillimore  who  de- 
voted herself  absolutely  to  ministering  to  Mrs. 
Gladstone  especially  during  the  last  two  years. 

And  near  by,  at  Saighton  and  Eaton,  were  the 
delightful  George  Wyndham,  Lady  Grosvenor, 
the  Westminsters. 

In  1895,  the  last  voyage  in  the  Tantallon  Cas- 
tle; in  1896  the  last  speech  at  Liverpool,  pleading 
with  all  the  passion  of  his  most  vigorous  days  for 
Armenia;  in  1897,  the  final  visit  to  London  for  the 
marriage  of  Princess  Maud,  when  Lord  Rosebery 
remarked  on  the  intense,  almost  dramatic  interest 
attached  to  the  three  historic  figures.  Queen  Vic- 
toria, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone,  all  three  having 
lived  almost  throughout  the  Nineteenth  Century. 
In  September,  1897,  their  last  visit  to  Scotland, 
and  in  November  their  last  journey  to  the  Riviera 
— the  Aberdeens,  Mr.  Acton,  Mr.  Armitstead,  Lord 
and  Lady  Rendel,  who  shall  say  which  of  these  was 
the  chief  est  friend  and  benefactor?  But  it  was  the 
last  among  them  that  received  them,  welcomed 
them  so  lovingly  in  the  sad  winter  months  of 
1897-8,  when  the  pain  and  distress  of  his  final  ill- 
ness was  gradually  undermining  his  health  and 


[Xuma  Blanc  Fils 

Mr.   and    Mrs.    Gladstone    at    Cannes 
1898 


iaemini0cence0  277 

strength.  Their  son,  Harry,  had  married  Maud, 
the  daughter  of  Lord  Rendel,  and  no  words  could 
fitly  describe  the  devoted  love  they  lavished  both 
upon  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gladstone.  From  Cannes  they 
went  to  Bournemouth  in  February,  1898. 

On  March  18,  while  at  Bournemouth,  Mr. 
Gladstone  learnt  that  his  life  was  likely  to  end 
in  a  few  weeks.  The  verdict  he  received  with 
serenity  and  a  deep  sense  of  thankfulness.  Just  as 
he  entered  the  train,  he  turned  round  and  said  to 
those  who  were  seeing  him  ofif,  with  quiet  gravity: 
''God  bless  you,  and  this  place,  and  the  land  you 
love." 


CHAPTER  IX 


"via  CRUCIS — VIA  LUCIS" 


Ir  is  hardly  possible  to  convey  any  accurate 
idea  of  the  great  ocean  of  sympathy  and  kind- 
ness that  flowed  in  from  every  part  of  the 
world  during  those  last  weeks — thousands,  even 
millions,  seemed  to  watch  round  the  death-bed. 

"From  every  rank  in  social  life  came  outpour- 
ings in  every  key  of  reverence  and  admiration. 
People  seemed — as  is  the  way  when  death  comes 
— to  see  his  life  and  character  as  a  whole,  and  to 
gather  up  in  his  personality,  thus  transfigured  .  .  . 
all  the  best  hopes  and  aspirations  of  their  own 
highest  moments."  * 

It  was  a  time  of  great  suffering,  but  of  great 
glory.  It  was  a  way  of  sorrows  but  it  was  a  way 
of  victory.  And  all  through  those  weeks  she  was 
near  him,  cheering,  fortifying,  sweetening  the 
atmosphere.  She  herself  was  not  well,  but  all 
through    his   illness   her   spirit   rose    to    a   high 

*Lord  Morley. 

378 


"IPia  Ctuci0— l^ia  Lucf0"  279 

plane  of  self-forgetfulness,  and  she  devoted  her- 
self absolutely  to  soothing  and  minimising  his  pain. 

Among  the  many  scenes  of  pathetic  interest,  the 
farewell  visits  of  those  dear  to  him,  there  is  one 
that  none  could  ever  forget  who  witnessed  it.  The 
cherished  boy  who  bore  his  name,  and  who  seven- 
teen years  later  was,  in  battle,  to  consecrate  it  anew, 
came  down  to  the  Castle  to  receive  the  farewell 
blessing. 

Will  was  then  an  Eton  boy  of  thirteen.  Mrs. 
Gladstone  was  seated  close  to  her  husband.  With 
a  gesture  of  infinite  tenderness  she  drew  him  into 
her  arms,  and  holding  him  close,  she  gathered  up 
all  her  strength,  physical  and  mental;  she  spoke  to 
him  in  the  most  wonderful  way — she  spoke  of  the 
past  and  of  all  that  had  been  sacrificed  for  Hawar- 
den  by  his  Grandfather;  she  spoke  of  the  future 
and  his  own  great  duties  as  owner  of  the  Estate,  of 
his  responsibilities,  of  the  example  he  was  to  fol- 
low. With  her  dying  husband  hardly  conscious  by 
her  side,  she  poured  out  to  the  boy  her  love  for 
him,  her  hope  for  him,  her  belief  in  him.  .  .  . 

In  May  Lord  Rosebery  came;  Mr.  Morley 
came;  George  Russell,  and  H.  S.  Holland:  Bishop 
Wilkinson  to  administer  the  Holy  Communion. 
In  the  early  morning  of  Ascension  Day,  without 
a  pang,  he  ceased  to  breathe — "Nature  outside — 


280  9ir0»  (Gladstone 

wood  and  wide  lawn — and  cloudless  far  ofif  sky — 
shone  at  her  fairest " 

Mrs.  Gladstone,  exhausted  with  the  long  watch- 
ing, half  an  hour  later,  quiet  and  beautiful  as  of 
old,  fell  into  dreamless  sleep.  I  still  see  her  in  the 
last  historic  scenes  of  her  life — on  every  great  oc- 
casion, with  undiminished  spirit,  she  rose  to  the 
call.  Two  scenes  in  particular  abide  in  the  mem- 
ory. 

On  May  22nd  a  fatal  accident  occurred  in  one 
of  the  Estate  Collieries.  Mrs.  Gladstone,  herself 
widowed  only  two  days  earlier,  at  once  went  to 
the  cottage,  and  after  speaking  to  the  dead  collier's 
wife  in  words  of  tenderest  understanding  and  sym- 
pathy, she  knelt  down  on  the  floor  beside  her,  and 
prayed  aloud  a  spontaneous,  extempore  prayer,  a 
humble  intercession  expressed  in  the  simplest 
words. 

A  few  days  later,  early  in  the  morning,  Mrs. 
Gladstone  received  the  Holy  Communion  in  Ha- 
warden  Church,  as  the  coffin,  under  its  white  pall 
lay  before  the  Altar.  After  the  service  we  drove 
in  an  open  carriage  in  the  Funeral  procession, 
through  the  Park,  with  its  glory  of  spring  blos- 
soms, and  its  black  masses  of  people,  thousands 
and  thousands,  from  Manchester  and  Liverpool 
and   other  manufacturing  towns.     Like  another 


great  lady^  twelve  years  later,  she  forgot  every- 
thing but  the  thought  of  giving  pleasure  to  the  peo- 
ple, as  she  bowed  from  side  to  side  all  the  way  to 
the  station. 

As  she  entered  the  great  west  door  of  the  Ab- 
bey, the  vast  concourse  of  people,  seated  tier  above 
tier  on  each  side  of  the  nave,  simultaneously  rose 
as  she  walked  slowly  up  the  centre.  ''She  went  in 
like  a  widow,  she  came  out  like  a  bride" — so  did 
the  whole  ceremony  uplift  and  inspire  her.  The 
scene  at  the  grave  was  indeed  memorable.  As  the 
last  solemn  strains  of  the  Dead  March  were  dying 
away, — Mrs.  Gladstone  a  noble  and  pathetic  fig- 
ure by  the  open  grave,  gazing  down  upon  the 
coffin  of  her  husband — the  Prince  of  Wales, 
afterwards  King  Edward  VII,  was  seen  to  ap- 
proach. Bending  down,  he  reverently  kissed  her 
hand;  his  example  was  followed  by  the  other  pall 
bearers — Prince  George  (now  King),  Lord  Salis- 
bury, Lord  Rosebery,  Mr.  Balfour,  the  Duke  of 
Rutland,  Lord  Kimberley,  Sir  William  Harcourt, 
Lord  Rendel,  Mr.  Armitstead,  and  Lord  Pem- 
broke (who  represented  Queen  Victoria).  To 
each  one  of  them,  as  they  bent  down,  she  spoke 
some  appropriate  word,  showing  far  more  self- 
control  than  any  of  these  deeply  moved  friends. 

*  Queen  Alexandra. 


282  ^t0»  (fi5IaD0tone 

"The  congregation  that  filled  the  Abbey,  the 
simplicity  of  dress,  the  unostentation  of  the  cere- 
monial, resembled  the  funeral  of  a  village  hero,  in 
his  own  parish  Church.  Only  the  parish  was  the 
Empire,  and  the  mourners  were  the  representatives 
and  rulers  of  the  world.  The  most  beautiful  sight 
was  the  loving  wife,  who  for  sixty  years  had  min- 
istered to  the  dead  man.  Her  sweet,  patient,  hope- 
ful face  was  a  homily  and  solace  to  all  who  saw  it." 

And  another  wrote:  "It  was  all  so  beautiful 
and  moving — your  darling  Mother  thanking  the 
Pall  Bearers — how  wonderful  she  was.  The  most 
touching  thing  of  all  was  when  she  walked  down 
the  nave,  leaning  on  the  arms  of  her  two  sons, 
and  as  she  passed  she  smiled  at  the  faces  she  knew 
• — everybody  cried  at  this — her  being  able  so  to 
forget  herself,  and  remember  others  in  the  most 
crushing  moment  of  her  life."^ 

Then  there  is  Lord  Morley's  unforgettable  de- 
scription of  the  mourning  nations — France,  Amer- 
ica, Russia,  Italy,  Greece,  Norway,  Denmark,  the 
Balkan  Provinces — nations  that  had  struggled  or 
were  struggling  to  be  free:  "It  was  not  at  West- 
minster only  that  his  praise  went  forth — famous 
men  have  the  world  for  their  tomb — in  foreign 
lands  a  memorial  of  them  is  graven  on  the  hearts 

^  Charlotte  Ribblesdale. 


"I^ia  Ctuci0— IDia  Lucig"  283 

of  men.    No  other  statesman  on  our  famous  roll, 
has  touched  the  imagination  of  so  wide  a  world." 

Only  two  years  of  loneliness  were  to  pass.  She 
returned  to  Hawarden — it  was  typical  of  her  un- 
selfconsciousness  that  she  never  looked  at  a  paper, 
never  once  asked  that  the  account  of  the  Funeral 
should  be  read  to  her.  She  lived  her  quiet  life, 
physically  and  mentally  very  gradually  failing. 
Only  once  did  she  leave  Hawarden  again,  taking 
a  house  at  Penmaenmawr  in  the  autumn  of  1899, 
and  paying  a  farewell  visit  to  Penrhyn  Castle.  On 
Oct.  5,  1899,  the  Duke  of  Westminster  in  her  pres- 
ence laid  the  first  stone  of  St.  Deiniol's  Library — 
it  was  part  of  the  Nation's  Memorial  to  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. Mrs.  Gladstone,  the  previous  day,  had  cut 
the  first  sod — thus  were  these  two  lifelong  friends 
together  in  their  last  public  act,  their  intercourse 
had  at  one  time  been  shadowed  by  political  differ- 
ences— but  in  the  end  they  were  associated  in  a 
ceremony,  the  object  of  which  was  homage  to  Mr. 
Gladstone.  The  Duke  only  lived  a  few  more 
weeks — she  survived  him  by  six  months.  She 
was  chiefly  companioned  those  last  two  years  by 
her  daughters  and  daughters-in-law,  her  nieces  and 
most  intimate  friends.  But  she  much  preferred 
men  to  women,  and  would  often  have  felt  a  sense 


284  ^t0*  (SlaD^tone 

of  boredom,  had  not  others  made  special  journeys 
to  see  her — Lord  Rosebery,  H.  S.  Holland,  Sir 
Arthur  Godley,  George  Russell.  This  tenderness 
of  thought  for  her  on  the  part  of  the  younger  gen- 
eration greatly  cheered  and  pleased  her,  and  the 
frequent  presence  of  her  sons  and  grandchildren, 
gave  variety  and  light  on  the  path  she  now  trod 
alone.  Hardly  a  day  passed,  after  May,  1898, 
without  bringing  her  a  word  from  George  Rus- 
sell. He  loved  her  as  a  son,  and  never  lost  a  chance 
of  cheering  or  amusing  her  with  some  little  word 
he  had  heard  or  read,  or  something  he  had  seen, 
concerning  her  husband.  She  appeared  to  have 
almost  a  sense  of  his  nearness  during  the  two  years 
that  separated  them.  The  books  she  loved  best 
were  the  Biographies  written  by  Mr.  Justin  Mc- 
Carthy and  Sir  T.  Wemyss  Reid.  These  were 
read  to  her  over  and  over  again,  and  the  Sermons 
on  Mr.  Gladstone  by  her  two  sons-in-law,  the  Dean 
of  Lincoln  and  Harry  Drew,  Edward  Talbot  and 
Arthur  Lyttelton,  her  nephews,  and  H.  S.  Hol- 
land, were  meat  and  drink  to  her. 

With  her  unconquerable  will  and  her  vitality 
of  spirit,  it  was  hard  through  increasing  weak- 
ness to  drop  one  by  one  her  activities,  her  re- 
sponsibilities, her  businesses.  There  comes  a  time 
in  most  lives  when  the  father  and  mother  live 


^ 

IP 

■ 

^R 

"  "  '  ^  H^^^^^l^liB^ 

'H^. 

^I^^^^^H 

B 

H 

"* 

^ 

ift      "v^'l;^i"    Tte  .          _i^BB 

#1 

li*.*.**        "^^Sj^B 

HB 

"j 

d.Jk 

||fl 

■i^ 

i 

inn 

^1 

f^J 

H 

a 

^^ 

c 

Q< 

h-l 

A 

• 

"g 

>5 

-S 

> 

< 

5j 

M 

a 

W 

rf 

to 

hj 

co" 

'-^ 

H 

-0-. 

c/2 

CO 

<J 

u 

6^ 

ttc 

M 

Q 

>< 

o 

OS 

< 

< 

S 

"3 

> 

^ 

< 

;^ 

s 

(4, 

"I^ia  Crucis— l^ia  Lucis"  285 

long,  when  the  relation  between  parents  and  chil- 
dren becomes,  in  some  measure,  reversed.  With 
him  it  had  been  not  only  an  easy  task,  but  one  that 
had  called  forth  his  deepest  gratitude,  to  hand  over 
his  possessions,  to  leave  his  affairs  and  even  his 
will,  in  the  hands  of  his  children,  and  especially 
in  those  of  Harry,  his  trusted  son.  But  to  her  it 
was  difficult  to  give  in,  to  give  up.  She  still  strug- 
gled to  fulfil  her  accustomed  duties,  the  little  min- 
istrations that  she  loved  to  bestow  on  all  that  need- 
ed them.  It  was  the  habit  of  her  life.  To  the  end 
she  strove  to  write  letters.  .  .  . 

We  will  not  dwell  on  the  last  of  her  days  on 
earth.  It  is  life,  not  death,  that  matters.  Grad- 
ually the  brain  lost  its  power.  She  became  less 
and  less  conscious — there  was  little  or  no  suffering, 
and  on  the  afternoon  of  June  14th,  the  eager  spirit 
passed,  without  struggle,  to  its  rest. 

No  one  who  was  present  on  the  early  morning 
of  June  19th  will  forget  the  Service  at  St.  Faith's. 
The  coffin  had  been  brought  from  Hawarden  to 
Westminster  Abbey  on  the  preceding  day.  It  had 
rested  in  the  Chapel  during  the  night,  with  its 
white  pall  and  burning  tapers  and  the  flowers  that 
she  loved;  the  Cross  at  its  head,  the  kneeling  Sis- 
ters, who  had  watched  all  night,  the  solemn  Re- 
quiem. ...  A  few  hours  later,  with  the  same  sol- 


2SQ  a^rg*  aiaDstone 

emn  service,  the  same  glorious  music,  the  same 
mourners,  family  friends — statesmen,  and  many 
others  of  distinction  or  no  distinction — we  stood 
once  more  around  that  same  open  grave,  and  to 
many  the  thought  must  have  occurred  that  this 
was  more  a  wedding  than  a  funeral. 

"Lovely  and  pleasant  were  they  in  their  lives,  and  in  their 
death  they  were  not  divided." 


tii 


so 

o 

00 


o  « 


00 


to 

2 

a  ^ 

o 

><  6 

1-1  OO 

H 

o  cr 

>< 

hJ 

w 

< 

t— 1 

C/3 

> 
< 
h-1 

IH 

cH 

c 

o 

w  5 

o  3^ 


o 

H 

t/3 

o 


1^ 

►^    ro- 
ll   °° 
,    I-" 

a 

-w 
w 

H 

<: 
U 


a 

<u 
u 

0) 


a 

3 

a 

o 

& 


II  ^S 

>     M     «J 

a      -^ 


O  1) 

II   ^"^ 

W  CO    03 


O 


qS  o 


O)  u-i 

•-  °  a^ 

•^    (J    te  ^ 

-S.a  «^, 


II  "g« 


>   <   iJ     . 


5  S  00   tn 

K.'  Q  Z  ^"'ti 


z 

a 
w 

•H 


M 


W 


1) 
3 
tn 


fe  II 


<:  t-i  [d  00      3 


II    ^  H         W  pj  ^  to 

-Si   Z5grS  P^MtS   ^ 


S 


5  3  E2g       ^ 
o  .r  OO  -rt  "<? 


w     (O 

-  a  — < 

c3 


.  w 
pa 
o 


>   H 


H  00 

z°2 

03 


_w  2  S  w  >'^  3 


<PQ 


•g-* 

5 


O   '^ 


r,      O      O 

O   D.  "1    „ 

n  o  JJ  K-ja 
j^n-goo-, 


W     ^  «  r^ 

o  :<  w    r  r? 

d     1-^  '^  ,   •     M 

WJ-;  wo    . 


^     .  SJ  fcj  ^1  ^-^  fl 


«ll  § 


o 

H 
O 


« 

"pa 

c/j   II    Bj  1/5        en 


-« 


O' 


a> 


J  S   S   l^-^   3 

ts  W  S  5"-'  m'- 


)ffiU 


w 


M  M 


fx   w    >-i    «  Q  "^ 

P  Si-5  Q  W  00 

W  >    M 

«  <^ 

•^    td  is    O    ,3 

M  S  CO  vo  "« 

-^  H  <  "  a 


INDEX 


Aberdeen,  Lord  and  Lady,  213, 
256,  275,  276 

Aboyne,  Lord,   11 

Acland,  Sir  Henry,  letter  from, 
162 

Acton,  Lady,  109 

Acton,  Lord,  227,  261,  269,  275, 
276;  his  estimate  of  Gladstone's 
oratory,  230;  quoted,  260;  Let- 
ters quoted,  239 

Afghan  Boundary  dispute,  172 

Ailsa,  Lady,  178 

Alexander,  Bp.,  quoted,  156 

Alfred,  Prince,  68,  69 

Alice,  Princess,  67 

Alix  of  Hesse  (Empress  of  Rus- 
sia), 100,  192 

Anson,  Gen.,  144 

^\rgyll,  Duchess  of,  death  of,  176-7 

Argyll,  Duke  of,  letters  from,  149, 

177,  194 
Armitstead,  Mr.,  114,  269,  275,276 
Asquith,  Mrs.  (Margot  Tennant), 

letter  from,  193 
At  Sundry  Times,  114 
Audley  End,  5,  15 


B 


Balfour,  A.  J.,  87,  254;  Glad- 
stone's affection  for,  236;  at 
Hawarden,  272 

Barnard,  Sir  H.,  144 

Bathurst,  Lord,  15 

Battersea,  Lord  and  Lady,  io2 

Bellairs,  Miss  Eleanor,  114 

Belvoir  Castle,  69 

Benson,  Abp.,  letter  from,  167; 
death  of,  169,  274 


Benson,    Mrs.,    letter    from,    200; 

letter  on  Mrs.  Gladstone's  last 

illness,  279 
Bliicher,   128 
Books  read,  36,  44 
Brabazon,  Lady,  27,  37 
Braybrooke,  Lord,  90 
Bright,  Jacob,  222-223 
Bright,  John,  letter  from,   176 
Brooke  family,  14,  29 
Brownlow,  Lady  Adelaide,   106 
Bryce,  Lord,  letter  from,  165 


Cambridge,  Duke  of,  104;  friend- 
ship with  Mrs.  Gladstone,  13 

Canning,  Lady,  letter  from,  140 

Canning,  Lord,   19,  66,   140,   144-6 

Carlisle,  Lady,  132 

Carlton  House  Terrace,  37,  251- 
252 

Carnot,  President,  257-258 

Catherine  Gladstone  Home,  The, 
244 

Cattle  plague  anecdote,  248 

Cavendish,  Lady  (Lady  Fred- 
erick), 204,  205,  224,  244,  251, 
267;   letter  to,  77 

Cavendish,  Lord  Frederick,  80, 
251;  murder  of,  166,  236 

Chamberlain,  Joseph,  257,  267 

Chaplin,  H.,  160-161 

Charitable  undertakings,  241-242, 
243-244,  245-246 

Chatham,  Lady,   5 

Chess,  36 

Childers,  H.,  104 

Cholera  epidemic,  i,  245 

Church  in  its  Relation  to  the  State, 
The,  8,  21,  45.  64 


289 


290 


2nDei 


Churchill,  Lord  Randolph,  105 
Clark,  Sir  Andrew,  84,  236 
Claughton,  Bp.,  105,  106 
Cobden,  R.,  131-132 
Coleridge,  J.  T.,  42 
Colonial      Prime      Ministers      at 

Hawarden,  274 
Cook  and  the  Captain,  The,  235 
Coutts,  Angela  Burdett,   136 
Cowper,  Lady.    See  Palraerston 
Cowper,  William,  153 
Currie,  Sir  Donald,  173 


Dalhousie,  Lord,  66 

Dalmeny,  15-16 

Delamere,  Lady,  letter  of,  126-129 

Delane,  J.  T.,  letter  from,  181 

Denison,  Archdeacon,  137 

Derby,  Lord,  126 

Disraeli,  B.,  124,  126 

Dollis  Hill,  256-257 

Douglas,  Lord,  9-10 

Downing    Street    party    anecdote, 

253-254 
Doyle,  Sir  Francis,   19,  31 
Dress  fashions,  182 
Drew,   Dorothy   Mary   Catherine, 

255,  258,  271 
Drew,  Rev.  Harry,  271 
Drew,  Mary,  letter  of,  to  Lady  F. 

Cavendish,  77 
Dufferin,  Lord,  letter  from,  186 
Durdans,  the,  m 


E 


Edward,     Prince     (Eddy),     103; 

death  of,  113 
Ellen    Middleton,   236 
Ellenborough,  Lord,  145 
Escrich,  37 


Falbe,  Mme.  de,  105 
Fasque,  33 


Frederick  William  IV.,  King  of 

Prussia,  45 
Frere,  Sir  Bartle,  104 


Garibaldi,  Gen.,  letter  from,  151 
George,  Prince,  191,  281 
Gladstone,  Agnes,  66-9 
Gladstone,  Catherine,  ancestry  of, 
1-5;    childhood    and   education, 
5-9;   in  Paris,  9-12;   home   life, 
13-14;  in  Scotland,  15-16;  Lon- 
don gaieties,    16-17;    in   Naples 
and    Rome,    19-20;    Mr.    Glad- 
stone's   first    proposal,    21 ;    re- 
turn   to   London,    23 ;    engaged, 
23-28;   married,  28  ff.;  birth  of 
her  eldest  son,  41 ;  death  of  her 
child    Catherine    Jessy,    74-75, 
262 ;     rescue     work,     246-248 ; 
death    of    her    sister,    262-264; 
Lancashire  cotton  famine,  96  ff., 
242;   cholera   epidemic,   i,  245; 
Pembroke    Castle    trip     (1883), 
172,    173;    visit    to    Italy,    186; 
golden  wedding,   188;   death  of 
her  eldest  son,  262,  265 ;  speci- 
men  day  of  her  old   age,  242- 
243  ;   in  her  husband's   last  ill- 
ness, 278-280;  his  funeral,  280- 
282;      failing     health,     283  ff.; 
death  and  funeral,  285-286;  her 
affection  for  her  sister,   17,  26, 
35,    54;    position    in    her   home, 
18;  relations  with  her  husband, 
26,  217,  229,  234,  262,  265,  268; 
watchful  care  of  him,  208,  219- 
220;  book  of  extracts,  7-8;  rec- 
ord work   of   her  children,   54; 
appearance  of,  17-18,  202 
Gladstone,  Harry,  93,  276 
Gladstone,  Helen,  28,  105,  270 
Gladstone,  Herbert,  93,  166,  271 
Gladstone,  Jessy,  68,  73-75,  262 
Gladstone,   Rev.   Stephen,   68,   71; 

letter  from,  quoted,   80 
Gladstone,      W.     E. — meets      the 
Glynnes  in   Naples   and   Rome, 
19-20;    first    proposal,    21;    ac- 
cepted, 23 ;  speech  on  the  Corn 


KnDej 


201 


Laws,  46,  47;  as  President  of 
Board  of  Trade,  48 ;  shooting 
accident,  52,  135;  enters  the 
Cabinet,  59;  resigns  on  May- 
nooth  grant,  63-66;  M.P.  for 
Oxford  {1847),  131;  European 
journey  for  a  friend  (1849),  72; 
death  of  his  child  (1850),  74; 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
(1853),  126,  137;  re-election, 
137-8;  the  Budget  (i860),  147; 
political  campaigns — Newcastle, 
Midlothian,  etc.,  115  ff.;  Re- 
form Bill  (1866),  252-253; 
Prime  Minister  {1868),  152; 
political  achievement,  81,  82; 
resignation  (1875),  82  ff. ;  sec- 
ond time  Premier  (1880),  164; 
popular  sentiments  towards, 
165-166;  Bingley  Hall  speech 
(1888),  179-181;  cataract,  258; 
old  age,  271 ;  at  Cannes,  276- 
277;  at  Bournemouth,  277;  fa- 
tal illness,  277,  2786?.;  death 
of,  196,  196  ff.,  279;  jFuneral, 
280-282;  his  orderly  habits,  27; 
domestic  interests,  58;  trustful- 
ness, 208;  estimate  of,  2296?.; 
his  oratory,  230;  Millais  por- 
trait, 188;  Biographies,  228, 
284;  letter  to  Lord  Lyttelton 
quoted,  231-232;  The  Cook  and 
the  Captain,  235;  two  sleepless 
nights,  236 

Gladstone,  W.  G.  C,  279 

Gladstone,  W.  H.,  41,  44,  58,  63, 
90;  estimate  of,  as  a  boy,  71- 
72;  engagement  of,  157;  death 
of,  265,  277 

Gladstone  family,  the,  24;  home 
life  of,  260-262 

Glenconner,  Lady,  iii 

Glyn,  George,  251 

Glyn,  Sir  John,  3 

Glynne,  Lady  (Mary  Neville),  i- 

2,   4-5.   8-9,   31,   135 
Glynne,    Henry    (brother),   6,    11, 

15,  28;  marriage  of,  60;   death 

of,  270 
Glynne,     Mary.      See    Lyttelton, 

Lady 


Glynne,  Sir  Stephen    (father),   i- 

3.  4 
Glynne,    Sir    Stephen     (brother), 

10,  II,  12,  25,  33;  death  of,  156, 

270 
Glynnese    Glossary,    22,    55,    210, 

223 
Godley,  Sir  Arthur,  275,  284 
Gordon,  Gen.,   171 
Graham,  Sir  James,  letter  from, 

148 
Granville,  Lord,  102,  108;  lunch- 
eon party  to,  220-221 
Grenville,   the  Rev.  the   Hon.   G. 

N.,   6  n.,  12,   29 
Grenville,  Thomas,  12,  25,  44,  66; 

letter  from,  129 
Grosvenor,  Lady,  iii,  276 
Guizot,  70 


H 


Hagley,  14,  29,  60,  133 
Hamilton,  Duchess  of,  10 
Hamilton,  Duke  of,  19 
Harcourt,  Abp.,  25 
Harcourt,  Col.,  16 
Harcourt,  Lord,  quoted,  215 
Harcourt,    Sir   Wm.,    letter   from, 

199 
Harris,  Lord,   19 
Harrison,    Frederic,    letter    from, 

195 

Harrington,   Lord,    108,   204 

Hawarden — Visitors'  Book,  275; 
St.  Deiniol's  Library,  283 

Hawarden  Estate,  3  ;  colliery  ac- 
cident, 280 

Hawarden  parish,  12-13;  New 
Church,  59 

Heathcote,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,   15 

Heber,   Bishop,  8 

Herbert,  Mrs.,   147 

Herbert,   Sidney,  91 

Hesse,  Princesses  of,   100,  192 

Holland,  Rev.  H.  Scott,  275,  279, 
284;   quoted,  209 

Home  Rule  split,  175  ff. 

Hook,  Dr.,  59 

Hooker,  Sir  Joseph  and  Lady,  254 


202 


KnDei 


Hope,  A.  J.  B.,  59 

Hunt,  Holman,  letter  from,  170 


Indian  Mutiny,  the,  140  Q. 

J 

Jarnac,  Mme.,  70 

K 

Keate,  Dr.,  43 

Kiel  Harbour  opening,  116 


Lancashire  cotton  famine,  96  ff., 
243 

Lawley,  Jane,  28 

Lawrence,   Sir  H.,   144 

Lefevre,  J.  Shaw-,  66 

Leinster,  Lord,  178 

Leopold,  Prince  (Duke  of  Al- 
bany), death  of,   167 

Li  Hung  Chang,  273 

Liddon,  Canon,  letter  from,  155 

Lincoln,   Abraham,   quoted,   253 

Lister,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  15 

Liszt,  Abbe,  9 

Lloyd,  Gen.,  142 

Lovelace,  Lady,  quoted,  210-11 

Lunch  improvisation  incident, 
220-221 

Lyttelton,  Dowager  Lady,  61,  62, 
89;  letter  from,  152 

Lyttelton,  Lady,  6,  7,  11,  13,  17, 
18,  42;  engagement,  25;  mar- 
riage, 29;  children  of,  54;  at 
Hagley,  133;  characteristics  of, 
17;  death  of,  262-264 

Lyttelton  (George),  Lord,  25-26, 
29 

Lyttelton,  Albert  Victor,  262 

Lyttelton,  Alfred,  263 

Lyttelton,  Mrs.  Alfred  (Laura 
Tennant),  172,  173;  quoted,  218 

Lyttelton,  Arthur,  107 

Lyttelton,  Constance,  246 


Lyttelton,  Katharine,  quoted,  210 
Lyttelton,        Lavinia         (Lavinia 

Glynne),  59-60 
Lyttelton,  Lucy,  89 
Lyttelton,  Mary    (niece),  2n 
Lyttelton,  Meriel,  42,  44,  89 

M 

Macaulay,  Lord,  21 

Mahony,   Pierce.     See  O'Mahony 

Manning,  Cardinal,  21,  42,  59, 
61  ;  letters  from,  135,  188 

Marie  Antoinette,  70 

Maynooth,    64-66 

Melbourne,  Lord,  209 

Midlothian  campaign,  164,  219- 
220 

Monsell,   Mrs.,   247 

Morley,  Lord,  260,  279;  quoted, 
64,  180,  229-230,  253,  268,  278, 
282;  letter  from,  202;  estimate 
of  his  Life  of  fV.  E.  Gladstone, 
228 

Morpeth,  Lord,  132 

N 

Napoleon's  charger,  4 

"Nebuchadnezzar,"  224 

Neill,  Brig.-Gen.,   144 

Neville,  Mrs.  Chas.,  90 

Neville,   Grey,   90-91 

Neville,  Henry,  90-91 

Neville,  Mary.     See  Glynne 

Neville,  Mirabel,  91 

Newcastle,  Duke  of  (Lord  Lin- 
coln), 19;  letters  from,  138-139 

Newman,  Cardinal,  letter  from, 
158 

Newnham  College,  106,  290 

Nicholas,  Emperor  of  Russia,  62, 
193 

Northcote,  Sir  Stafford,  66,  171 ; 
letters   from,    137-138,   151 

O 

Orleans,  Due  d',  10 

O'Mahony,    Pierce,    letter    from, 

190 
Outram,  Lady,  142 


antiei 


293 


Palmerston,  Lady  (Lady  Cow- 
per),   134;   letter  from,   153 

Parnell,  C.  S.,  112;  the  divorce 
case,   190 

Paul,  Herbert,  112 

Peel,   Arthur,   112 

Peel,  Sir  Robert,  42,  44,  51,  63, 
70-71 ;  the  Corn  Laws,  46-8;  his 
estimate  of  Gladstone,   50-1 

Pembroke,  Lady,  106 

Pembroke  Castle  trip,  172 

Penrhyn,  Lady  Gertrude,  60 

Perceval,  Mr.,   137,   138 

Petz,  272 

Philiimore,  Mr.,  53 

Phillimore,  Lucy,  In  Memoriam 
by,  cited,  240 

Phillimore,  Sir  R.,  19,  173 

Phoenix  Park  murders,   166 

Platof,   128 

Primrose,  Lady  Peggy,   m 

Primrose  League   anecdote,   114 

Prince  Consort,  44,  92-93 

Princess  Royal,  51,  100;  letter 
from,   189-190 

Public   Worship   Regulation    Act, 

155-157 
Pusey,  Dr.,  letter  from,  183 


Recollections  of  an  Irish  Judge, 
56-7 

Reeve,   Henry,   quoted,   33 

Reid,  Sir  R.  (Lord  Loreburn),  154 

Rendel,  Lord  and  Lady,  276 

Rescue  work^  246-248 

Ribblesdale,   Lady,   218 

Richmond,  Sir  Wm.,  letters  from, 
193,    198,   200 

Ripon,  Lord,  49,  50 

Robert  Elsmere,  109 

Roberts,  Sir  F.  (Earl  Roberts), 
104 

Rogers,  Samuel,  23,  25;  entertain- 
ing the  Church,  58 ;  letter  from, 
136 

Rosebery,  Lady,  15,  16,  ii2 


Rosebery,  Lord,  15,  16,  112,  256, 
275.  276,  279,  283;  cited,  219, 
276 

Rothesay,  Lady  Stuart  de,  11 

Ruskin,  John,  161-164 

Russell,  George  W.  E.,  275,  279; 
letters    from,    284;    cited,    235, 

172,    175 
Russell,  Lord  and  Lady  John,  46, 

88 
Ryan,  Sir  Charles,  221 


Saighton,   no 

Sandringham,   102  flF. 

Schliiter,  Auguste,  letter  from, 
213-214 

Selwyn,  Bishop,  42-3 

Shell,  Irish  orator,  56 

Spencer,  Lady  Sarah,  257,  275 

Stanley,  Lady  Mary  (Lady  Mary 
Grosvenor),    161 

Stanley,  Lord,  45,  49,   56 

Stanmore,  Lord  (Sir  Arthur  Gor- 
don),  letter  from,   172 

Stuart,   Prof.,    112 

Stuart,  Gertrude,   158 

Sutherland,  Duchess  of,  45,  89, 
100 

Swansea,  116 


Tabley,  Lady  de,  45 

Tabley,  Lord  de,  19 

Talbot,  Mrs.  E.  S.   (Lavinia  Lyt- 

telton),  210-212 
Talbot,   Gilbert,  273 
Tantallon  Castle,  255,  276 
Tennant,    Laura.     See   Lyttleton, 

Mrs.  Alfred 
Tennant,    MargoL     See   Asquith, 

Mrs. 
Tennyson,    Lord,    100,    150,    178; 

letters  from,  159,  182;  home  life 

of,  260 
Tennyson,   Hallam,   160 
Thirlwall,  Bishop,  25 
Times,  The,  109 
To  Tivo  Sister  Brides,  quoted,  32 


294 


2nDe3E 


Victoria,  Queen,  visits  Hawarden, 
13;  coronation  of,  17;  friendli- 
ness with  Mrs.  Gladstone,  41, 
58,  66,  68,  69,  89 ;  sentiments 
towards  Mr.  Gladstone,  94; 
family  life,  62;  death  of  the 
Prince  Consort,  93-96;  interest 
in  Lancashire  cotton  famine, 
97;  letters  from,  157,  167,  191 


W 

Wales,  Prince  of  (Edward  vii.), 
52,  67-68,  72,  105;  illness 
(1871),  100;  at  Duke  of  Al- 
bany's funeral,  168;  letter  from, 
169;  at  Hawarden,  274;  at  Mr. 
Gladstone's  funeral,  281 
Wales,  Prince  of  (present),  52 
Wales,  Princess  of  (Queen  Alex- 
andra), 100;  entertains  the 
Gladstones     at     Sandringham, 


102-103,  107;  visits  Hawarden, 
274;   letters  from,  274-275 
Warren,  Margaret  Leicester,  260 
Watts,  G.  F.,   letter  from,  192 
Wedding-ring  incident,  219 
Wellington,  Duke   of,  41,  42,  45, 
50,  61 ;  desire  to  resign  his  com- 
mission, 51 
Wenlock,  Lady,  9 
Wenlock,  Lord,  16 
Westminster,   Duke   of,   283 ;    let- 
ters from,  160,   166,  179 
Wickham,  Rev.  E.  C,  270 
Wilberforce,  Bishop   Samuel,   let- 
ters from,  154 
Wilkinson,  Bishop,  279 
Woodford  journey  anecdote,  206- 

207 
Woolner,  Thos.,   letter  from,   150 
Wyndham,   George,    no,  276 
Wyndham,  Percy,   in 
Wynne,  Sir  Watkin,  28 


Zouche,  Lord,  19 


vh 


'/ 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 

STACK  COLLECTION 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


£^0  I  S£E::?^:^6.6^         % 


1  Om-5,'65  (P4458s4 )  4761 ) 


1 


M,r™nrf!f":i".^.^.'0'^*^^'BRARyFAC,. 


ITY 


^^ 


